


The Misadventures of Star-Lord & the Earth Girl

by starmal



Series: Misadventures Vol. 1 [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 107,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22375636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starmal/pseuds/starmal
Summary: When Malia Reyes wakes in the dead of night, she finds an alien ship crashed atop her apartment building! And the "alien,' abroad is no other then Star-Lord, retired Guardian fallen back on his more criminal lifestyle. Now with fate having thrown a man from the stars and a girl from earth together, they'll have to survive whatever the black void of space and the marvel universe has to throw at them.
Relationships: Peter Quill & Guardians of the Galaxy Team, Peter Quill/Malia Reyes, Peter Quill/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Misadventures Vol. 1 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610680
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to post this series here for quiet sometime and finally got the boost to do it! As a reader of Marvel Comics, my partner and I decided to give Peter Quill his rightful dos; something that hasn't been done in the movies themselves. He is a very different character in the comics, with little material shown in the mcu and we wanted to explore that missed opportunity. A mixture of comicbook and mcu star-lord, you'll be seeing here on this adventure.I'm certain it will be formatted in a way most of you aren't used to as both perspectives of the main characters will be shared. Similiar to how comics are structured. But, we hope you guys enjoy it and stay along for the ride!

**1 HOUR BEFORE**

Peter gripped the controls of the ship with every bit of strength he had, trying to keep his free fall under some semblance of control. The night sky outside the windscreen jerked about with each violent motion the ship made. Peter struggled to spot something to lock his focus on outside. He wasn't even sure where he was exactly. Earth, yeah, but where on the big blue ball he couldn't say. He'd hoped to get in quiet like and not draw any attention - which was against hi nature, but when ship systems start spazzing out there's not much you can do. 

Peter's heart sank as the lights of a city came into view. Whelp, there'd be no sneaky entrances tonight. He desperately scanned the cityscape for, at the very least, a flat surface. Peter threw flicked on the stabilizing thrusters, the ensuing whiplash nearly snapping his neck as the ship slowed a bit. Empty bottles slammed into the front of the ship with a deafening rattle as the violent spinning calmed ever so slightly. Peter shook his head, trying to banish any dizziness so he could find a place to set the ship down. 

His eyes caught sight of a roof that was possibly just long enough to set down on. Sure, a few satellite dishes and an AC unit would have to go, but Peter didn't really care at the moment. He pushed the stabilizing thrusters to their limit as they fought against the falling dead weight if the ship. The roof kept getting bigger as Peter's life ran through his head. Great, now he could die while feeling down. He struggled to keep the ship at a proper angle so as to actually hit the roof he was aiming at. 

Peter yelled as the ship set down on the roof, scraping across the roof. He covered his face with his arms as satellites started to slam into the windscreen of the ship. The edge was fast approaching, the thrusters only doing so much to slow the ship down. Peter lurched forward as the ship slammed into the AC unit, rolling into its side. Peter yelled again, the ground mere inches from his face with only glass separating the two. The ship began to slow, finally lurching to a groaning stop, hanging a bit over the edge. Peter looked out the windscreen to find he was looking directly at the street below. He sighed, and then chuckled. "Like a glove."

* * *

Curiosity killed the cat — and probably her too. 

Here she was following strange alien lights to her building roof in her pajamas, barbecue fork in hand with some determined look on her face. Looking back, now a step away from the door, she probably should’ve taken those shots of NyQuil before bed, never having woken up to see anything or better yet, wander into the kitchen in the first place. Damn her 3am thirst for water!

What was she even doing up here?

Malia froze as the thought crossed her frazzled mind, and lowered the fork in her hand, seeing the mysterious glowing lights flicker through the bottom panel of the door. She really was going to surprise attack whatever creature landed on the roof with a barbecue fork...losing probably her life in the process? She looked back over her shoulder and smacked the palm of her hand into her forehead. 

But. . .

Placing her hand around the door knob, Malia turned the cold handle, and slowly pushed forward the metal frame a crack— the flashing lights dancing across her face. What if...she could prevent something bad from happening? That was her motivation. Scared or not, she could. Right? One hesitant step, followed by two then three, she thrust herself into the middle of the rooftop with her eyes closed. Oh! And her trusty barbecue fork ready for battle.

Then, nothing.

Malia opened one eye after what seemed like an hour. There was no one one in front of her. Just a ship. No weird looking aliens ready to probe her and god knows what else. Just a rather tired looking space ship parked on the roof of her building, flashing whimsical lights. She let her hands fall to her sides, feeling disappointed. There went her night. "Seriously...?" She sighed, looking up at the ship. Was someone even in there?

Questions that needed many answers ran through her mind as she walked beneath the contraption. "Hello?" Malia barely let out in a whisper. She touched the cool metal with one hand and poked it with the other, hearing the clank of the fork hitting against the ship. There had to be a button somewhere. And so she searched for it, until unexpectedly the carrier door lowered itself open. She held her breath and waited, popping her head from behind the platform. Again...

Nobody. 

"I must've hit something," Malia said to herself, hesitantly putting one foot forward. Here she was, again, letting her curiosity get the better of her. It wasn't everyday some Alien ship landed on someone's roof. She could be the first to report on the matter, making all those X-Files Cultics extremely happy. She gripped onto the handle of her barbeque fork and proceeded to count. 

1, 2, 3...

In a rush of quick adrenaline, she hustled into the back of the carrier, throwing herself behind whatever object was big enough to hide her. She suppressed a giggle or two. This definitely confirmed her friends statements; she was insane. Now, all she needed was proof. Catching her breath, Malia peeked around, every odd noise sending her back into hiding. Was this ship really empty?

* * *

Peter gave the ship's mainframe another kick for good measure before replacing the panel covering. That was the extent of his computer repairing ability, so if that didn't work he was out of luck. The system had been freaking out the whole time he'd been working on it. Turning lights on and off, opening and closing doors, it was a mess. Peter turned the system off for a few seconds before starting it back up. Everything seemed to be working smoothly at the moment, so his expert repair tactic must've worked. "Rocket, eat your heart out."

Peter carefully righted the ship using the thrusters and turned on the engine. The ship started to vibrate as they hummed to life, lifting the vessel so that it hovered above the roof. It was time to shove off before somebody from S.H.I.E.L.D, S.W.O.R.D or some other acronym came looking for him. Peter set the navigation computer to take him out into open space before sitting back in his seat. He watched the city start to grow smaller as the ship ascended into the night.

Peter's nose picked up an aroma he wouldn't call pleasant. It smelled like engine fluid and grease mixed with Drax sweat. He looked around the room, searching for the source of the smell before a thought occurred to him. Peter lifted his arm slightly, taking a cautious sniff. He winced as the source of the smell had been discovered. There were two options. Get a drink and feel disgusted with himself for getting so ripe, or shower. Peter sighed as he stood up and peeled off his shirt and started towards the shower.

Peter stopped at his tape deck before heading off. He scanned his small collection of cassettes. It wasn't much, but he liked to think the quality made up for that. He picked up one of his mixtapes, happy to see that side B was ready to go. Peter popped the tape in, turning the volume all the way up before pressing play. 'Carry on Wayward Son' started to blast through the speakers, drowning out even the ship engine. He'd rigged up a stereo system that stretched throughout the entire ship and could blare his music as much as he wanted. That was one of the only benefits of travelling alone. Peter walked off towards the shower, singing along with the song as he went.

* * *

In the short period of wandering very cautiously, ducking around every corner, Malia came to a conclusion that the ship she was in, didn't belong to Aliens. Coming across small modern-like knick knacks, she started to become more curious instead of scared. The pilot was human. But, that still didn't explain the strange roof landing. She paused in her tracks, hearing a faint sound of music from somewhere above. There was someone onboard! Question was, did she want to meet them? Malia walked toward the ascending ladder and looked up. Maybe she should turn around and pretend none of this ever happened. It was all some weird dream she could spin for a story at a party one day. She sighed and stood in place — no longer hearing the faint sound of music, but footsteps instead. 

“F*ck!” She panicked, scanning the room for a place to hide. Her heart was going to pop out of her chest. She could here the footsteps getting closer, meaning they were coming! Malia rushed up the stairs, thanking her herself for wearing slippers and dipped into a nearby room. The doors automatically slid open, she lunging to the middle to stand still. She could’ve sworn she saw a silhouette turning the corner. 

“Please don’t come in here…” She whispered, pressing the barbecue fork against her chest as the footsteps grew louder. She closed her eyes and repeated, ‘please,’ to herself, each step getting louder and louder. Upon noticing they continued down the hall, Malia let out a deep breath. “Thank God.” She slowly walked to the automatic door and peeked her head out, before scurrying in the opposite direction.

She didn’t want to leave empty handed. Walking into every room she came across, Malia poked around, finding armor, gun parts and just odd items she wasn’t familiar with. “Definitely, not from this planet called Earth,” She said, putting down a strange sphere object with pointed edges. It was too big to put in her pockets. Also hazardous. The point on that thing could probably stab her. “The hell…” Her eyes caught a glimpse of a shining object. Whatever ship room she had stumbled in had to be for trinkets because there was dozens of things in there. 

She raised her hand to grab for the sparkly item and suddenly yelped at the unexpected movement of the ship, sending her over. She hoped no one heard her, but panicked regardless as the roar of the ship itself told her nothing good was coming from it. The ship was moving and she was still in it! Tripping out of the room, Malia ran toward the direction the footsteps had previously gone and pulled herself back, behind the entry, at the sight of pilot. 

”Oh god,” She kept her eyes on the driver. It was a man. Dressed in some red leather? She couldn’t quite tell. Catching her breath with the rumblings of the spaceship rattling at her bones, Malia prepared herself for whatever was to come for the dumb decision she was about to make. Slowly approaching the strange man whom flicked switches on the dashboard, she lifted her barbeque fork and poked him from behind — hard enough to hurt. 

“Stop whatever you're doing, and let me off this thing!” 

Here is where she died.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter yelped and jumped up from his seat as something stabbed him in the back. He nearly fell over the control console altogether before looking back at his attacker. The girl glared at him with a determined yet perplexed look. Peter would've tried to match the look, but was too bewildered to do much of anything. "What I'm doing? What am I doing? You're the one shanking people in the back!"

"I'm not going to be some Alien, experiment!" Malia shouted, pointing the barbecue fork still at the stranger before her. She took a step back. "So, please let me off this thing. I won't tell anyone about your freaky ship. Okay!?" She wagged the fork at him fiercely. He looked harmless, but she wouldn't know. He could be some space serial killer for all she knew.

Peter held up a hand. He'd been on the bad side of a girl with cutlery before and had no desire to do so again. "I'm not gonna' do anything to you. I'm only... half as human as you, so... you can feel half better, I guess." Peter sighed. He was usually smoother than this, but the stowaway stabbing and subsequent yelp had cramped his style. Peter took a cautious step forward, holding out a hand in greeting. "Listen, you've got me at a bit of a loss here." He flashed as friendly and charming a smile as he could muster. "I'm Star-Lord."

"And?" Malia arched an eyebrow. Was she supposed to tell him her name? Just like that. Nuh-uh. She gripped the handle of the fork and suddenly replayed the other half of his sentence in her head. "Wait. Half Human!?" She attempted to stab him again, but missed to land a hit. He was an Alien. Even if half. She kept backing away or circling around as he went to the left and she right; fork at the ready. 

"Look. I don't care what your name is, Star Lord." Malia drawled then pointed quickly at the dashboard, realizing in a great panic that the ship had probably taken off. "Turn this thing around or so help me, I will take your eyes out with this thing!" She shouted, whipping her head back around. She may have looked tough, but inside she was a mess.

Damn her curiosity. Damn this ship and it's...Star Lord!

Peter held up his hands as the he and the girl circled each other. "Come on, I'm not 'that' alien. I was born in Missouri for God's sake. I'm not gonna hurt you," Peter slid one of his element guns underneath the console with his foot. He didn't want to get into it with this girl because judging by her pajamas and choice of weapon, he doubted she was really looking for a fight. "I swear. I won't hold the whole sneaking onto my ship and stabbing me in the back against you. Let's just put down our forks and talk like, you know, most folks."

Malia sighed and stopped moving to cross her arms over her chest. "Okay." She gave him a stern look. One little odd thing and she was going to take him out. "Also I only snuck in here to find Aliens! Not you." She clarified, taking a few steps until her back hit the wall. She didn't trust him. "Now, let me off this thing...Star Lord." She drew out in humor, making herself giggle. What kind of name was Star Lord? She narrowed her eyes. "Are you Space Royalty?"

Peter sighed, partly out of relief at the de escalation and partly because of his disappointment in the girl's giggling at his name. "I was briefly, actually, but that's neither here nor there." He held up a hand as he looked over the control console. The ship was already out of earth's atmosphere and he wasn't keen on turning around. If somebody had noticed his little 'landing', they'd probably be waiting for him if he came back. But, seeing as how it was either kidnapping or turning around, he'd obviously turn around. He prayed that the computer wouldn't go all screwy again, because if it did he had no doubt he'd be getting forked again. "Lucky for you we haven't gotten too far away from earth." Peter glanced back at the girl as she carefully watched every move he made. "How'd you get past my security systems anyway?"

"Well, there was no security. Or I didn't trip any." Malia explained. She found that odd. On her behalf she had forgotten entirely about the possibility of security monitoring. He could've been watching her all this time. She sighed. What an idiot she was. Glancing in his direction then at the control panel, Malia felt a brief wave of panic sink in. 

"So, your going to take me to your Alien bodies for food right?" She asked, her tone laced with sarcasm and palpable fear. She couldn't believe how calm she was compared to minutes ago, but she had to be, to handle the situation. "I should've stayed in bed and minded my own business. I mean it is your fault." Malia raised her voice saying the word 'your,' and pointed at Peter momentarily before almost flying across the room from sudden turbulence of the ship. 

"Oh my god! I'm going to die." She shouted, grabbing on the wall for support.

Peter braced against the console so as not to go sailing through the air. He glanced back at his 'guest'. "You're not gonna die... probably!" Peter held tight as  
turbulence grew more violent. He'd expected it to hit, but not this hard. He switched the controls back to manual and grabbed the steering rig. The rig fought with him for control of the ship as the metal walls quaked. 

It'd be fine so long as he kept the ship steady and it stayed in one piece. He'd been in situations like this plenty of times. A sound like screeching steel tore through the ship before a deafening crash rang out. Peter's heart jumped into his throat as he whipped his head around to look behind him. "Sh*t!"

Malia felt like her heart was about to pop out of her chest as the ship's erratic turbulence sent her crashing into one of the empty crew seats. She yelped at the impact of her body hitting the armrest and held on for dear life, closing her eyes. 

"Do something, Star Lord!" She shouted furiously over the blaring alarms going off all at once. If she wasn't sure before, she was positive now she was going to die. Buckling herself, nervously into one of the empty seats, Malia braced herself.

"I'm trying here!" Peter gritted his teeth as the ship rocked like a boat in a storm. Another loud crash from somewhere in the ship rattled through him as he desperately worked the screen on the console. Parts of the ship were flashing red on the display, but the computer's malfunctioning was making it impossible to pinpoint any one problem. If he made it out of this, he would see to it that the ship computer was ejected into the cold void of space. 

The ship groaned as another piece broke free and smashed into the wall. There just wasn't enough power to break free from the turbulence, but Peter knew where he might get some, he'd need help though. Peter pressed a button on the console and a second control rig unfolded and rose from the floor in front of the girl's seat. "Hey... you?! I need you to grab those controls and keep us as steady as you can!"

"What?!" Malia shrieked, seeing her life, for the first time, flash before her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

"WHAT!?" Malia shrieked, looking at the control wheel in front of her. She glanced at Peter then at the rig with shock and raised hands. In a quick calm enough haste she lowered them on the wheel and took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay." She repeated. "Keep it steady. That shouldn't be too hard." She gulped. It was her driving test all over again. 

Malia breathed in and out, keeping the rig steady enough while screaming internally. "Where are we going? Can we just land this thing?" She asked, her voice vibrating from the jerky ship. If it weren't for her seat belt, she probably would've been splat on the ceiling. She couldn't wait to see how her hair looked.

Peter unbuckled his seat belt and carefully stood, holding tightly onto his seat to keep steady. "Where we're going is an early grave if we don't straighten this old wreck out. Now, she'll fight, but I'm sure you can give as good as you can take. I've got the holes in my back to prove it." He ventured a step, barely keeping upright with the shaking of the ship. Peter tapped the device behind his ear and his helm materialized, encasing his head. That'd provide at least some protection. 

Peter took a step, tripping a bit but staying upright. All he needed to do was get to the hidden panel in the hall, and then the engine. The ship lurched, sending Peter crashing to the floor. He slid along the floor before hitting every metal step on the way down to the lower level. Peter groaned as he got to his feet. "Steadier!" He carefully made his way to the hall, trying to ignore all of his things getting scattered about. Peter crouched in the hall, removing one of the panels to reveal a hidden storage area. If this worked they'd be sitting pretty. If it didn't, well, at least it'd be a quick death.

Malia slowly began to panic as Peter disappeared from her view and into the back somewhere. "Keep it steady." She gripped the wheel almost till her knuckles grew white, not hearing anything around her out of pure focus and shear fear of killing them both. She repeated, "Steady...," as a mantra and steady the ship went. Well, as leveled as she could put it. 

Glancing over her shoulder briefly and back she called out to Peter. "Uh, Star Lord!?" Where was he? She tried to look toward the back again with no avail. She saw nothing. "Hello!? I am not a pilot. Can you please get your ass back hereee—," She whipped her head around seeing a giant ship heading toward them and fast. "Oh my god!" Malia turned the wheel to the right at its fullest, missing the incoming air craft by a hair. 

"I just did that?" She mumbled, her breathing erratic and all over the place. She definitely would pat herself on the back after this. Rookie pilot and she was dodging ships like nothing. "Yes!" She let her hands of the wheel to clap her hands in triumph, but not for long. Not a minute after a direct hit came across the side of the ship, sending it swirling and Malia screaming as she desperately tried to steer it back on course.

Peter was thrown into the storage room, slamming into a crate of liquor hard enough to tip it over. He groaned as the price of each bottle went through his head with each one broken. The ship started to spin wildly, sending Peter crashing to the ceiling. He bounced between there and the floor, bottles crashing around him. His hand caught hold of a fastening strap which gave him enough support to stay somewhat stable. "What the hell is she doing?!"

Peter scanned the room until he found what he was here for. A metal canister with an excessive number of warning labels plastered all over it. Peter let go of the strap and slid down the inverted floor, coming to a stop on the wall next to the canister. He sighed before unhooking the straps holding it down. This sh*t was very rare, very volatile, and very not his to use. Like his stock hadn't taken enough of a hit with the booze. 

He carefully lifted the canister, holding it under one arm as he climbed out of the small room and into the hall. The ship jolted, knocking Peter against the wall and knocking the canister free. Peter dove after the rolling canister, sliding on his stomach down the inverted hallway. He grabbed hold of it, rolling around to cushion it's impact. His back slammed into the wall, the weight of the canister crushing him. He groaned. "Damn fork wielding, pajama wearing, ship flipping lunatic."

Driving a spaceship was suppose to be like driving a car...or at least Malia thought it was. Just a car without wheels that flies. She was very wrong. If her screams of terror weren't enough to convince anyone she wasn't cut out for piloting, she didn't know what more to say. Each blast sent her on a frenzy, her hands turning to the right then left to keep the ship steady. 

Having a moment of clearance, she whipped her head back and shouted over the blaring alarms. "Star Lord! Get your leather wearing a** up here now." She tried to keep the rig wheel steady enough for the ship to balance itself out for seconds to come. Still her heart was racing, having a bad feeling about what was to come. Where did that ship come from?

Peter pushed the canister off of himself and got to his feet. The ship had steadied enough for him to stand. He heard the girl yelling from the front of the ship but couldn't make it out. Something about leather and ass? He lifted the canister again and headed to the hatch at the back of the hall. In the relative calm of the moment he thought he heard something hit the outside of the ship. He sure hoped not, because that would certainly mean something bad was causing the turbulence. 

Peter grabbed the crank on the hatch and gave it a good turn. The ship started to shake again as he opened the hatch to the engine. Heat poured from the room along with the deafening hum of the engine. Peter climbed into the room, searching for the fuel line. Lucky for him it wasn't too far in. He unscrewed the top of the canister as carefully as the shaking could allow. This stuff could pack enough of a punch in an ounce to rocket a ship to the middle of deep space, at least that's what Peter had heard. Should be enough to get them out of this turbulence... or completely tear the ship to shreds.

Peter grabbed the fuel line and pulled it loose from the engine, tying it off so it wouldn't spray everywhere. "Hey, can you hear me up there!?"

The static filled voice of Star Lord filled Malia's ears like an answered prayer as she continued to maneuver the ship across the whatever part of the galaxy they were in. She took a deep breath briefly. "Yes. I can hear. Now, where the hell are you?" She paused. "I don't think I can drive this thing any longer!" She added quickly, hoping the other aircraft had stopped following them. "There's someone following us."

Might as well tell him, she thought to herself. She had a bad feeling about it. They could send them packing into a nearby planet or worse, board the ship. Why did she have to wake up and get on this thing? She didn't know this lunatic. He could be wanted...or worse. 

Malia could feel the paranoia creep up on her slowly. "Can you get your ass up here?" She looked around to see where his voice had come from. The rig didn't have a hidden speaker did it?

Peter's heart dropped. He'd suspected a pursuer, but had obviously hoped there was nothing to the feeling as they were never good news for him. "Sh*t." Peter was caught off guard by the loudness of the curse before remembering the voice amplifier was on. He cleared his throat. "You're doing fine, just hang in there." The engine had started to wind down due to the fuel supply being cut off, and in just a few seconds they'd be dead in the water. The ship's shaking grew more violent as something hit the outer hull yet again. 

Time was a short and chances were slim, but that seemed to be the usual setup in Peter's life. Peter dipped a finger in the canister's contents, wincing as the volatile fuel burned his skin. "Make sure we're pointed towards open space!" He hoped his stowaway would have time to do what he'd said before the engine completely shut down. Peter carefully removed his hand from the canister, balancing a drop of the liquid on the tip of his finger. The engine had just went completely quiet as Peter carefully moved his hand towards where the fuel line had been. 

Peter sighed as he looked at the drop pleadingly. "Please don't blow us up." He winced, remembering the amplifiers again. "Listen up, stowaway! You need to sit back and hold on!" Peter took a deep breath. "This could get rough." With that, Peter let the drop fall into the engine.

"Okay...," Malia turned her full attention back to the open space before her. She was glad there was just the scenery from the galaxy around them to see. No other ships. She let out a sigh at the thought and wished the rig had an auto button. She didn't feel like driving this thing any longer then she needed to. "Hurry up,seethed between gritted teeth. Where was he? Dumb Star-Lord. What was his real name? Malia racked her brain for his introduction. She didn't remember. 

Enjoying the silence she was giving with the occasional crackle and pop from the ship's metal, Malia closed her eyes. She shrieked abruptly once she was swung to the side by the impact of a blast hitting the ship's side panel. "Oh no," She looked up to no surprise to see the strange ship that had attacked them before right in front of her viewpoint, panic setting in real quick. 

"Uh...Star Lord!?" She screeched as metal grappling ropes attached to the ship.

Peter sighed. "What is it no..." Something burst through the wall of the room, tearing through the engine. Peter dove to the floor just as a second object tore through the ship just above his head. He got to his feet, looking back at the two harpoons stuck in the ship's engine. "Sh*t." Peter's eyes wandered to the canister which had been knocked over and was now, for all intensive purposes, spilling money. "Sh*t again." The engine spat sparks and smoke as Peter turned to leave. Well, this situation had gone from bad to worse to the absolute worst. 

Peter started down the hall, tapping his helmet to make it fade away. Whoever was coming wasn't gonna take too long. Peter climbed the ladder up the the flight deck, poking his head in and looking around. The girl had stood up from her seat and was at the back of the room, staring at the viewpoint. Peter followed her gaze as he climbed the rest of the way up, his stomach doing a flip when he saw the ship. It was a Nova Corps ship, as evidenced by the abundance of yellow (those guys sure liked yellow). The control panel started to blink, signaling a comm hail as two more ships joined the first, both Nova. 

Peter wordlessly answered the comm which turned on a screen to the left of the panel. A stern looking man with the unmistakable helm of the Nova Corps glared at Peter through the screen. "Peter Jason Quill, by the authority of the Nova Corps you are under arrest. Your ship and all of it's contents now belong to us." 

Peter nodded, glancing back at his stowaway. "Ain't like I got much of a say as you've gone and ventilated my engine." He felt that familiar stone in the gut feeling of being caught red handed, but it's effect had weakened over the years. Peter sighed and gave the Nova Corpsman a dismissive shrug. "Get on with whatever you're gonna do, will ya?" He turned off the comm and turned to face his stowaway, trying his best to cover up his rising dread and panic. "So... how are you?"

"You're wanted!?" Malia grabbed on to both sides of her head, pulling strands of her hair. She shouldn't be shocked, but here she was...dumbfounded. "I can't believe this. You tell them I have nothing to do with this," She waved her arms around. "Or YOU!" If she could kill him right now, she would. Instead, Malia waltzed up to Peter and shoved him repeatedly. "You're a damn space thief aren't you? Freaking Han Solo wannabe!" Where was her barbecue fork. Better yet, Malia was going to tell them she was kidnapped. Yup. Kidnapped from Earth.

She threw Peter a side glare as she folded her arms and walked away from him. The urge of wanting to hit him across the face hadn't passed so she needed to have some safe space. Didn't want the Nova whatever they were thinking she was crazy. "Dumbass," She spat his way through gritted teeth. All she wanted to do at this point was go home. Hearing the ship they were in being moved along space by force made her want to scream. She did. Internally. 

"I can't believe this." Malia found a spot and pressed her back against the wall, sliding down to plop herself on the floor. She placed her head inside her hands and took in deep breaths, legs pushed up against her chest. She was going to have a space record.

Peter took a deep breath before removing his jacket and hanging it on the pilots chair. He turned the seat around so it faced the girl before sitting down and resting his cheek in his hand. He'd been on the receiving end of the wrath of plenty of girls, but after being alone for a good while this latest one actually kind of hurt... just a little bit. His rising annoyance and frustration was outweighing any guilt at this point though. "So I'm not the most clean cut guy in the galaxy, but that doesn't make me some... some," Every example Peter went to use ended up describing him pretty well, so he decided to drop that line of thought. 

Peter stood and ran his hand down his face. "I've saved the galaxy, like, three times at least. That's got to count for something." He has the girl curled up in a ball a dirty look. "Besides, nobody made you come here. I don't come sneaking into your house and bust your balls about how you live your life!" Peter started pacing across the floor. "You go crawling onto a strange ship that dropped out of the sky and 'I'm' the dumbass?" He started towards the ladder. "Christ, I need a drink." Peter began to descend the ladder before stopping. "And who wouldn't want to be Han Solo?!"


	4. Chapter 4

Time seemed to pass much faster then Malia expected, the ship being hauled into some sort of storage port? She wasn’t exactly sure, but relieved in a sense to finally leave this place. She abruptly stood up, arching her back to stretch. Maybe it had been hours. She was stiff. Looking toward the hatch Star Lord went through earlier, she rolled her eyes, recalling his excuses. He was a wanted criminal. How dare he blame her? She didn’t want to be here. Yes, it was her fault and she’d admit it. “Damn idiot.” She snarled as the ship’s back door was opened. 

The Nova Corp!

A strange surge of excitement coursed through her and she sprinted to the back area with a smile on her face. She wasn’t going to be arrested. She was kidnapped. Clasping her hands together, Malia bit her lower lip. She hoped they’d listen. These were space cops right? As she battled with her own thoughts, the storage door slowly opened, a gleam of light crossing along her face. This seemed familiar. She forced her mouth to open,“Hello? My name is Malia Reyes and—,” then closed it when guns were pointed in her directions.

“Hands up where we can see them!”

She threw her hands up automatically. “Please! I’m innocent,” She started to say, following the oddly dressed soldiers as they moved past her and into the ship. “I’m a girl from Earth. Kidnapped by this lunatic named Star Lord.” She explained or more or less pleaded to then hear an uproar of laughter around her. They were laughing. She blinked, confused. What kind of space cops? She narrowed her eyes, ready to blurt out some obscene cursed words, but was beaten to the punch. 

“You’re an earth girl, kidnapped by Star Lord? You hear this, Wayne?” One of the males giggled beside her. “Man, this guy sure knows how to pick em’. Let me guess, you're some actress he picked up to give some ‘special lessons,’ to?” He added, setting off another wave of chuckles from his team. Malia turned around almost on instinct and collided her hand with his face, only earning more of a response from the Nova Corp. They thought this was some sort of joke. 

“I’m not lying, you bastard! You can even ask him yourself.” She shouted, feeling her blood boil with anger. What kind of guy was this man? She wanted to turn back time and never get on this bloody ship. She clenched her fist tightly, as one of the Nova Corp soldier’s wiped away a tear from the corner of their eye. He chuckled briefly. “Sure. We’ll ask him. It’ll make another good story for the squadron back on base.” He pushed her forward with his gun and led her outside, before tying her hands in cuffs. 

“I’m telling ya, we need to get paid more for this.”

Peter opened one eye, peeking at the door to his room. He thought he'd heard shouting over his music, which would mean it must've been some impressive shouting. Peter removed his headphones and stood up from his bed. How long had it been? Where was... that girl? It dawned on him that he didn't even know her name. Peter stretched as he made his way to the door and pushed the panel beside it. As the door hissed open, Peter was greeted by the barrel of a gun. "Heya, Peter. Been a while."

Peter raised his hands, looking past the guns at the Nova officer and his comrades. "I'm sorry, but I've met so many of you guys, do I know you?"

The officer shook his head. "No, I just meant, like, since your last arrest it'd been a while. Not that I knew you personally." The officer looked to the other on his right. "Was that not clear, Wayne?"

Wayne shrugged. "Honestly, it could easily be misunderstood how you said it."

Peter nodded. "It really could."

The officer sighed, taking a step closer to Peter. "Forget it! Turn around and put your hands behind your back!"

Peter obliged, letting Nova cuff him and lead him down the hall towards the door. "What're you picking me up for anyway?"

The Nova poked Peter in the back with his gun as they neared the door. "We heard you were smuggling again. And we now have... " The officer stifled a laugh. ", we may be adding kidnapping to the list."

Peter furrowed his brow and shook his head as the Novas shared a laugh. "Kidnapping? I've never... " A thought crossed Peter's mind. That tricky little stowaway must've told them he'd snatched her off of earth! He exited the ship into a Nova hangar. His gaze wandered to his left at the group of Novas and their prisoner. The girl watched him as he was led towards her. If her brow furrows anymore her forehead may collapse. First she sneaks onto his ship, stabs him with a fork, puts him through yet another 'you're scum' speech and THEN goes and tells the Novas he'd kidnapped her? Well, two could play at that game. Peter locked eyes with her as the Novas put him beside her, a sly grin crossing his face. He cleared his throat, making damn sure the Novas were listening. "Kidnapping? Really? That's a hell of a thing to say about your partner."

"See? I knew it. Partners."

"She's kinda a good actress too. Almost made us by that kidnapping bit." 

Wayne pushed Star Lord toward Malia's direction, aligning him next to her. "Now," He coughed to clear the negative air that seemed to strike between his criminals. "I'll need to take your fingerprints and data," He took a small electronic pad from the latch on his leg and looked up, being cut off.

"I told you already, I have nothing to do with his crimes. Tell them!" Malia glared at Peter, giving him a swift jab with her elbow. "Hello!? Are you deaf?" She moved her head to the side, so her face was directly in his line of sight. She was going to kill him.

Looking back and forth between the two, the Nova Corp Cadet sighed as he waited for their charade to end. "Look lady. He told us you're in on this. I'd give you some credit on this performance of yours but we're on the clock here so if you don't mind---," He managed to say before his eyes widened. 

The Earth Girl had snapped.

"Why you little!" Malia in a seethed rage tackled Star Lord to the ground unexpectedly. She slapped him awkwardly, but made sure she collided with his face. He told them she was his partner. How could he do such a thing? "I didn't want to be part of any of this!" She shouted while the Nova Corp members gathered around in pure shock and mild amusement.

"She's actually the first to give it to him." One said to the other. "Well, not in that position."

The first slap caught Peter so off guard he didn't know what to think, then the second slap came and he started to wonder why they hadn't cuffed her behind the back like they had him. After a couple more weird two handed slaps the Novas finally pulled the girl off of him. Two of them held her by either arm as she began to hurl obscenities Peter's way. A Nova pulled Peter to his feet as Wayne chuckled. "I heard you made for some damn fine entertainment, Quill, but this is great."

Peter gave the girl a dirty look as she struggled against the Novas. "Yeah, great." The cadet raised his pad, earning him a dark chuckle from Peter. "We both know I'm already on record."

Wayne sighed, making his way over to the girl. Peter met her death stare as Wayne took her prints. She had a killer one, one that would make most freeze in their tracks, unless you'd been on the receiving end of a few dozen like Peter had. The trick was to not look at the eyes, but look just above them. Wayne started back towards Peter, studying his pad. "Your partner there doesn't even have a name on record. That's why you pick up an earth girl? No previous record equals a blank slate out here, something you sure don't have."

Peter shook his head. "I didn't 'pick' her. She just kind of... showed up."

Wayne nodded, continuing to work on his pad. "Yeah, from what I hear you do kind of collect tagalongs. Speaking of," Wayne looked up from his pad. "where's your little gang?"

Peter took a deep breath. "We're... taking a break. Thanks for bringing it up though."

Wayne returned to his pad. "Sure. So, here's what's going to happen. We're going to search your ship for any signs of criminal activity. When, excuse me, if we find any you'll then be questioned and more then likely shipped off someplace where you're not my problem." Wayne held up a single celebratory finger. "Yay."

Peter looked at his ship. It wouldn't take them long to find the stuff he was smuggling. His secret storage could get passed a quick search but not a full sweep and scan. His mind raced as he tried to put together something resembling a plan. Hell, he'd settle for one single productive anything. "Do I get a phone call?"

Wayne gestured for Nova holding Peter to lead him away. "Ha... probably not."

Peter was led back to the girl's side, her eyes never leaving him. He could practically feel the heat from her glare burning his face. Peter kept his gaze fixed on his ship as a couple of Novas made their way towards it. "Hey! Be careful with my stuff, will ya?!"

One of the Novas looked his way. "Ha... probably not."

In the mere minutes that passed, both Malia and Peter were left to the watchful eye of one Nova Cadet, who paced back and forth across the room. Awkward silence was only heard between his footsteps and Star Lord's musical humming. It was equally annoying to Malia, her right eye twitching, but she kept quiet and bit her tongue. She wanted to scream all right. For pete's sake she was still in her damn pajamas. If that wasn't proof enough she wasn't from around here, she didn't know what was. Dumb Corps.

Heaving out a deep sigh, Malia caught Peter's glance momentarily. She had gotten him good, noticing an imprint of her nails across his cheek. That brought a small smile to her lips along with a giggle. The anger had washed away from her, exhaustion setting in. He had smuggled whatever in, but that still had nothing to do with her. Even that Wayne guy said it. No prints or record. 

"If they find your secret space stash, where exactly are they gonna take you?" 

Malia made sure to emphasize the "you," part of the sentence since she had nothing to do with his stealing. He was lucky she was speaking to him right now. Malia narrowed her eyes a bit as she waited for his response. If he was arrested, who would take her back to earth. She was certain the Nova Corp would stick in some place.

Peter sighed as the question made him lose track of the song he was humming. He wanted to say something along the lines of 'They've run out of prisons that can hold me', but he was in no mood for bravado nor was he concerned with impressing little miss slap happy. Peter turned to look at the girl, shrugging as he did. "Probably some Nova holding a pen for a while until they decide how 'bad' I've been. Once they do that, it'll probably be a bigger Nova holding pen." 

Peter turned his attention to the steady procession of Novas exiting his ship, each carrying as much of his stuff as they could. He glared at the one with his tapes, making sure he took proper care with each step. "Hey! You should be careful with those!" The cadet watching them shot him a look. "What? I'm already arrested." 

Arrested he was, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He was guilty of what they'd picked him up for, it was open and shut. Peter kicked himself for not being more careful, then kicked himself harder for even taking on smuggling jobs to begin with. The 'had to make ends meet' excuse had worn so thin it was gone, which left Peter with the question of why he'd done it at all. He shut down that line of thought, deciding that introspection would only make his current situation more unpleasant.

Watching the Novas go through his belongings had grown agonizing. He was desperate to distract himself, desperate enough to consider making smalltalk with his 'partner'. But not quite. A Nova exited the ship carrying an armful of Kitty's old clothes that she'd neglected to take with her. Peter glanced at the girl as she watched the clothes go by, a questioning look on her face. "Long story, stowaway. Long and not worth hearing."

“Uh-huh,” Malia nodded at Peter’s vague explanation about everything, not quite believing the last bit of the female clothes she saw. No woman left clothes on a man’s ship, home — whatever it was to him, unless they were comfortable and very familiar with each other. She gave him a side eye then shrugged lightly. She wasn’t going to pry him for any details...for now anyway. She had her fair share of losers she’d never like to talk about.

Bouncing on the heels of her feet, while the Nova Cadet’s rounded the last remaining items of Peter’s ship and laid them on display to poke at, Malia groaned loudly. “Hello? Um, can I use the bathroom?” She asked, receiving a flat out ‘no,’ from one of them nearby. As she was about to open her mouth in retaliation, she caught sight of Wayne stepping out of Star Lord’s ship with a rather annoyed look on his face.

“Well, we managed to find nothing, but your peculiar knick-knacks, Star Lord,” He dragged out his name. “Meaning whatever you smuggled in is hidden pretty good in there.” He walked up to both cuffed individuals, throwing a glance back at the ship behind him, before sighing. “I wanted to make this quick, so if you're inclined in telling us where the items are, we’ll drop SOME of the charges.” Wayne glanced over at Peter, a brow arched and a small smile on his lips. 

“And me?” Malia felt brave asking.

Wayne chuckled, “Sure. And you’ll be set free. Sounds fair, enough.” He nodded his head as if he were thinking over his own words before clasping both his hands together and turning over to Peter. “So, Peter whadda you say? For the girl and me, make our lives easier, pal.” 

Malia glanced at Peter herself, not sure of what to say. He was still going to be arrested. And she set free? But that still didn’t solve exactly her problem. “Wait!” She interjected, taking a foot forward. “Would you guys take me back to Earth?” That’s what she needed to know. No one was mentioning her, just Peter. She wasn’t lying. “If I have no records, put two and two together.” She pushed, having the Nova leader narrow his eyes. 

They still didn’t believe her?

“Look, girl. We’ve dealt with many con-artists in this Galaxy and don’t like to involve ourselves with planet Earth much.” Wayne began to explain quite sternly. “Our jurisdiction is space. If Mr. Quill brought you here, that is his problem to fix.”

“So, no? I'll stay here even if I’m not from here! ” Malia shouted back at him. There was something about this Wayne guy she was starting not to like. It was as if he was playing around. His carefree attitude didn’t suit the role of a Team Leader. Who the hell put this guy in charge. She closed her eyes for a second then opened them. “I would like to speak to whoever is in charge of this Nova Corp!” She stated with determination.

Silence. 

Even Peter looked at her like she was crazy. 

“Please?” Malia whispered, giving Peter a quick glance. Wayne covered his mouth with his gloved hand as the Nova Cadets around them began to laugh and continue to do their work. She felt like an idiot. At least she tried. Taking a step back, she turned her attention anywhere but forward, right when Wayne himself started to slowly walk away. 

“I’ll give you folks a night to think about it,” He chuckled. “Throw them in a cell.”


	5. Chapter 5

One of the Novas grabbed Peter's arm to lead him away, prompting him to shrug out of the cadet's grasp. His little act of defiance earned him a sharp jab in the back with the end of a gun. Peter winced, stepping forward alongside the girl as they were led out of the hangar. He glanced at the stowaway as she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her. That last round of mockery from the Novas seemed to have dampened her fighting spirit a bit. That or the events of the night had caught up with her as they now had for him. 

They turned into a corridor lined with cells, each sealed by a solid door with what Peter assumed was blast resistant glass. The Novas stopped them at a cell as two bunks emerged from the wall on either side of the room. Peter was shoved in, losing his footing momentarily. He whipped around to give the Nova a glare and was met with a smug smile. The Nova pressed a button outside the cell and the door descended, sealing the two inside. The silence was deafening to Peter as he usually drowned it out with his music. He sighed as he took a seat on one of the all too familiar feeling bunks. 

How the hell had the Novas missed his secret storage? Not that he was complaining, he was just shocked at the oversight. Maybe Wayne and his Novas were just especially inept. Maybe he'd underestimated his own smuggling abilities. Yeah, he liked that one. Peter folded his arms across his chest and rested his head on the wall. This ultimatum of Wayne's was a loss for Peter either way. And on top of that he'd made the stowaway Peter's responsibility. Peter was really starting to dislike this Nova named Wayne. 

Peter watched as the stowaway pushed down on the other bunk before cautiously taking a seat. Freakouts and assaults excluded, she was taking all this rather well. He rubbed the spot on his face she'd taken to beating not long before. "What's your name, stowaway?"

Malia looked up, shaking away the numerous thoughts that were running through her mind and arched an eyebrow at Peter’s question. “Stowaway?” She repeated. What the hell...She shook her head. Whatever. “Malia Reyes.” She proceeded to answer, not sure why she said her full name. He could steal her government information. She panicked inside, knowing she probably looked it, before quickly asking him the same. “And yours? I’m sure your actual name isn’t Star Lord.” She tried to sound cheeky about it. Had he told her his name? If he did, she definitely didn’t remember. 

Catching a reflection of herself on the small window on the door, she lowered her eyes to the floor once more. She looked like she had been dragged through hell and back. Hair all over the place, pajamas ruffled and tattered. Even her olive skin had gotten a bit pale. God, her slippers were dirty too. Running her hand through the knots in her hair, Malia held in the urge to cry. She didn’t have anyone here. She was stuck with no way home. All those thoughts came floating back in. What had she gotten herself into?

“I’m sorry,” She whimpered, placing her wet face into the palms of her hands. 

Peter furrowed his brow, unsure of how to continue the conversation. This girl, Malia, was running the full gambit of emotions and it was truly a sight to behold. He sat in silence for at least a minute before finally speaking. "My name's Peter, Peter Quill and, um, apology accepted?" Was that 'I'm sorry' even aimed at him? He looked around the cell, at a rare loss for words. There was still a few things he'd have liked to give Malia shit over, but now was obviously not a good time to do so. Even he knew when to keep quiet, and when you're opposite a girl who's already assaulted you twice, tried to get you put away for kidnapping and looks like she's been through a war, that's not the time to air your issues with her. 

A Nova peered in, first looking at Malia and then giving Peter an accusing look. Peter furrowed his brow, unsure of how to continue the conversation. This girl, Malia, was running the full gambit of emotions and it was truly a sight to behold. He sat in silence for at least a minute before finally speaking. "My name's Peter, Peter Quill and, um, apology accepted?" Was that 'I'm sorry' even aimed at him? He looked around the cell, at a rare loss for words. There was still a few things he'd have liked to give Malia sh*t over, but now was obviously not a good time to do so. Even he knew when to keep quiet, and when you're opposite a girl who's already assaulted you twice, tried to get you put away for kidnapping and looks like she's been through a war, that's not the time to air your issues with her.

The Nova had to look up to see him as they came to about Peter's chest. Peter watched as the Nova removed their helmet, her blonde hair falling to her shoulders, now free of constraint. She looked at Peter in disbelief. "It is you! I thought the other were just full of it."

Peter nodded. "Yeah, it's me."

The girl smiled before standing at attention. "Nova cadet Tochi Alleen," She loosened her posture. "is... who I am. Listen, I've seen the good you and your team have done first hand. If there's anything I can do for you while you're here, ask away."

Peter raised his brow. "Could you open the door?"

Tochi looked disappointed. "Um... anything else."

Peter chuckled. It had been worth a try. He glanced back at Malia before answering. "My Walkm... the blue box in my stuff, the one that holds cartridges. Can you get me that, it's headset and the grey cartridge?"

Tochi narrowed her eyes a bit. "What's it do?"

Peter shook his head. "Nothing bad, just plays music." He looked back at Malia again, sizing her up. "And can you get her a change of clothes from that pile that was very obviously not mine."

Tochi nodded. "Okay." Peter watched the cadet run off and disappear out of sight. It was nice to see at least one friendly person in this place. He leaned on the wall, his mind still swirling about how to get out of this place. The only person he could think of that would maybe (big maybe) help out was Richard Rider. Then again, he may have called him Dick Rider too many times for him to help. A compartment next to the door opened and the cadet appeared in the window again. "There you go, just... don't advertise you have it please. I shouldn't really be doing this."

Peter opened the compartment and pulled out the neatly folded outfit and his Walkman. "Thank you, Tochi. And, one more favor. Do you think you could get in touch with Richard Rider? He's a Nova. Let him know what's going on here?"

Tochi thought for a few moments. "Uh, yeah, I can do that."

Peter smiled. "Thanks ," The Nova smiled and wandered off. Peter popped open his Walkman to see she'd already put the tape inside. Same tape he'd had that night when he was a kid, the only thing that'd gotten him through it. Peter walked over to Malia's bunk and set the clothes beside her. He held out the Walkman and headphones. "Side A, track five. Don't... break... my Walkman."

"What?" Malia lifted her face from her hands and quickly wiped her tear stained cheeks. A walkman? She furrowed her brows, confused at his sudden generosity. She expected him to be a douche about the whole situation. Looking at the old device, she took it without a word and placed the small ear mugs on, before pressing play. She gave Peter a strange look when the music started going. Old jams? How old was this guy? She squinted her eyes. He didn't look much older than her. Maybe he was some humanoid alien.

Malia sat down as she skipped around the tape’s playlist until it landed on a familiar song by Journey. ‘Don’t stop believin.’ She loved that song. Humming the tune to herself, she drowned out her surroundings and swayed slightly to the beat. She paused when she noticed Peter staring at her with an amused grin and turned away from him, embarrassed. As she enjoyed the music, a tray suddenly slid through an opening in the door. 

She stared at what she could only guess was alien food and almost gagged, moving it away. She'd rather starve. It had a funny odor, color and look to it. “Disgusting,” She mumbled, glancing up at Peter. He was eating it. Figures. “You can have mine!” She shouted, forgetting she was close enough to whisper. “Sorry.” She took off his walkman and placed it beside her food tray for him to take back. It did help her feel a little better. Smiling, she offered a low, “Thanks,” and sat on her bunk with her arms crossed.

They were going to sleep in this uncomfortable space jail. Unbelievable. Malia chuckled to herself. She worked tomorrow...or had work. Whenever she did get back to earth, she was sure to be fired. “You owe me,” She yawned as she settled  her head on top of her hands and felt her eyes become droopy. That’s right. She hadn’t slept a wink. Awake the entire time since 3am. “I’m going to get fired from my job. So, someone has to pay for that.” She slowly drawled, feeling sleep take over her. 

She hoped when she woke up, everything had just been a really vivid dream.

Peter picked up his Walkman and the uneaten tray of food and walked back to his bunk. He sat down, pleased with his little good deed. It was the least he could do since, as far as he could tell, she was gonna be stuck in space regardless of what he did. Wayne was so sure that Peter was smuggling (which he was) that he may very well just ignore the lack of evidence and toss him away. Peter didn't like Wayne and his Novas, and it wasn't just his natural dislike of authority. He'd hung around with enough criminals to be able to pick up on one, even if they were wearing a Nova uniform. Obviously, he wasn't sure and could be wrong, but he was obviously not going to admit that. 

But, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it now. He finished off his second tray of food and lay down on the hard bunk, propping his head up with his hands. Peter put on his headphones and rewound the tape to the beginning before pressing play. He looked over at Malia as she slept surprisingly peacefully given the circumstances. Sheer exhaustion was a hell of a thing. In her unconscious state she didn't make for too bad company. Sure beat the stabbing and slapping awake Malia. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Hell of a day."

He crossed his legs and shifted, getting as comfortable as he could for the night. Hopefully that cadet, Tochi, would make that call. And hopefully Dick Rider didn't hate him enough or think he was guilty enough to not come and at least hear him out. Or hear him lie his way out of it at least. Nothing he could do now except wait for the morning and see what happens. Peter started to drift off to sleep, his music carrying him into unconsciousness. 

* * *

Everything wasn’t a dream as she’d hoped it would be. Waking up in the same cell she was in before, loudly confirmed those suspicions as her eyes fluttered open to see nothing, but the small sliver of hallway light peeking through the door. Malia gingerly lifted herself up with a stifled yawn and threw a mere glance at Peter’s bunk, feeling her stomach drop. Peter’s bunk was empty! She rushed over to it, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as the panic set in when she noticed she wasn’t seeing things. “Oh god,” She whispered. What if he made a deal with them? To leave her here in exchange for...Malia tried to remain calm and breathed. Something didn’t feel right. 

Unbeknownst to her, the infamous Star Lord was in a bit of a predicament. Locked securely to an interviewing chair, the space vagabond was prompted to questioning by the Nova Team’s Commander, Wayne. He'd been plucked out of his holding cell bright and extremely early and placed in the room and told to wait. Two hours later, Wayne himself strolled in with a folder tucked underneath his arm and cup filled with a warm beverage. He took sip as he acknowledged Peter’s presence.

“Mornin sunshine. Sorry to keep you waiting. ”

“Now...,” He opened the folder he'd brought in and skimmed briefly through the intel he already knew, glancing up at Peter once in awhile. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Putting his cup down, Wayne leaned back against the stainless desk not too far from his inmate’s position. “Have you thought over my very kind proposition?” He asked with a raised brow. “It’s a good deal. Not so much for the girl though...she’ll be chucked onto some planet deemed suitable by us — but at least she’s out of your hair. So what do you say, Star Lord?”

Even if Wayne was telling the truth and would lighten Peter's charges, that'd leave Malia stuck who knows where for possibly the rest of her life. There was no way he was gonna doom some hopelessly lost earth girl to that. It was times like these that Peter wished he was as bad as everybody kept telling him he was. Peter sighed. "What happens to Malia if I don't take the deal?"

Wayne held up a hand. "She'll be packed up and shipped off with you to somewhere scary and prison like."

Peter furrowed his brow. "On what charges?"

Wayne glanced at the file. "Smuggling, same as you. She's your 'partner' after all."

Peter shook his head. "You didn't find a thing on my ship, so how're you  gonna make any of that bull shit stick?"

Wayne leaned forward and locked eyes with Peter. "It wouldn't be the first time I've made somebody go away, mister Star-Lord."

Peter chuckled darkly. His instincts had been correct, this guy was as dirty as a Nova could get. All the way out here, wherever here was exactly, was like the wild west. And it would seem that Wayne had made the most of the lack of civilization and his authority as a Nova. It was a damn good setup, if Peter thought so himself, but not when he was on the wrong side of it like he was now. "Why do you want me to give up my supposed stash if you can just frame me?"

Wayne shrugged before picking up his cup. "Saves me the trouble of having to use some of my own stuff. Damn, you sure are full of questions." He snapped his fingers. "Come on, deal or no deal?"

Peter rested his head back and looked at the ceiling. Obviously he wasn't going to take the deal and banish Malia to who knows where. Hell, she'd have a better shot at survival being locked up with him anyway, unless she shanked him to death in prison. Peter assumed Wayne wanted whatever benefits putting away a name like Star-Lord would bring. Not to brag, but he was kind of a big deal. No matter what Peter picked, Wayne would win. That sure as sh*t didn't sit well with Peter. Oh well, may as well go out in a blaze of glory. "No deal, asshole."

Wayne took a deep breath before standing up. "Shame how much you resisted arrest."

Peter furrowed his brow. "What the hell are..." His question was interrupted by the fist of an unseen Nova colliding with is face. 

Wayne picked up his cup and strolled towards the door as the beating continued. "Work him over a bit then let him rethink his decision for a while."


	6. Chapter 6

Malia paced back and forth in her cell. She thought of the worse scenarios her brain could think of, while squeezing her hands together for comfort. Back and forth she walked until an idea popped into her head. Erratically, messing up her hair as if she’d just been electrocuted, she proceeded to bang herself with full force against the metal door. She screamed bloody murder and ripped some tears into her pajamas. She was going to fake insanity and find her way out of there somehow, somehow. Peter was taken and she was left to die.

Hearing the heavy boots approaching close by, Malia sprawled onto the cold floor and waited for the door to slide open. She held her breath once light admitted into her cell, closed her eyes and prayed her mediocre acting would suffice. “The hell…?” She heard the male, Nova Cadet whisper, tone laced with shock as he slowly stepped around her. “Miss? Uh,” He proceeded to hesitantly shake her shoulder. “Damn it. I’m not cut out for this.” He groaned. 

Malia resisted the urge to smile or giggle at this statement. ‘Here goes nothing,’ She thought to herself as the nameless cadet reached for his helmet to put in a call. She flung her feet to the side, right under his own, and knocked him over with a loud thug. “Sorry!” She exclaimed, reaching over to grab the keycard on his vest. She yelped, feeling him grabbed onto her with great force. “Please…,” She struggled against his strength. “I want to get out of here!”

She used her free hand to slap the Nova Member across his helmet, before digging her hand underneath it’s helm and taking it off. With one full swing, she smacked him right over the head with it, falling backward. Malia breathed out, noticing she was free from his clutches, keycard in grasp. She had knocked the poor guy...kid? She slowly looked over the Nova Member. He was young. Feeling a tang of regret, she mumbled out a low, “Sorry,” and abruptly got to her feet. 

“I have to find that idiot.” 

She should leave Peter. Find a ship and wing it. Make it to Earth, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She hesitated momentarily...then again before she stripped the Cadet of his uniform, covering him with her pajamas in return and sprinted out of her cell and locking it behind her with his Security Card. Thank god he was wearing underwear. Malia put on the Cadet’s helmet over her head and dashed down the corridor. She figured the Nova Corp communicated with them somehow. Maybe they’d mention Peter. 

In the meantime she’d look around. Turning the corner, her shoulder’s collided with someone. Great! She bowed her head in respect, and straightened her posture. “Apologies Sir!” She sternly hollered, keeping her eyes centered toward the floor. She blinked, furrowing her brows as she saw drops of coffee on the floor. She waited for the Nova to respond quietly. Receiving no indication of it, she moved a foot forward.

“Apologies?” She finally heard them say. “That’s a new one around here.” 

Wayne! 

Malia cursed under her breath. He was going to find her out. The Nova Uniform she wore barely fit her. However young the Cadet may have looked, he was twice her size, leaving the fabric hanging off her figure and helmet feeling out of place. She swallowed back some spit. Was she supposed to speak back or…? She tested her luck and responded coyly with an, “Yeah?” hearing him chuckle. She couldn’t see Wayne, but was certain he was smiling. 

“That uniform looks a little big on you…,” He stepped forward. “Also you spilled my coffee.” 

It seemed like the air changed in the hallway as soon as those words met her ears. She felt uncomfortably warm, heat radiating from pure nervousness and fear. There was something about Wayne that insisted he wasn’t one of the good guys and that meant she needed to get out of there and fast. “I’m sorry sir,” She bowed her head so her eyes were barely visible. “I will clean this mess up, right away.” She added for comfort. 

“Forget the coffee. Go down to cell block d and clean whatever mess those guys left in there before I get back. I’m sure Star Lord’s had enough of a beating for now.” He explained, turning on a squeaky boot to leave without another word. Malia wasn’t sure when she started to hold her breath, but she heavily exhaled as soon as he was feet away. A shiver soon enough ran down her spine. He ordered Peter to be beaten. 

Having the feeling in her legs return, she wandered from corridor to corridor until she spotted a group of Nova Cadets leaving a room, with suspicious enough grins and stains to give them away. She waited at a nearby corner and ducked into the room as soon as they left the area. Her eyes scanned the interview room until they landed on a strapped figure, slumped over and what appeared to be unconscious. 

"Oh my god...Peter," Malia raised a hand to her mouth as she robotically walked over to him in shock. She had never seen anyone beaten half to death before. Besides the countless Movies and Television series she'd seen. She touched his face slightly, afraid to do more damage. "Hey..." She whispered. "We need to get out of here." She felt herself start to panic. If Wayne came or a Nova Cadet walked in. They were screwed.

* * *

Peter stirred awake, his mind trying to piece together where he was. He blinked his eyes and groaned as he raised his head to look around. Oh yeah, Nova station, ultimatum, asshole named Wayne. Peter shook his head in an attempt to drive away the fog. As the fog began to clear he became aware of the Nova staring him in the face. He couldn't help but chuckle at their ill fitting uniform and helmet.

All he wanted to know was three things. Where were his guns? Where was Wayne? How long had he stayed conscious during the beating? His record was about five minutes and he'd wanted to beat it for a while. The Nova said something, but it didn't register with Peter. Probably because they'd whispered whatever it was. Weirdo Nova whispering stuff at him. 

He'd taken far worse beatings, but they didn't get easier to take. Stupid body feeling stupid effects of repeated blows to the head. The Nova had started to undo Peter's restraints, hopefully to take him back to his cell. Unless Wayne had changed his Mind about Peter's usefulness. "You here to finish me off?" The Nova finished undoing his restraints and removed their helmet. Peter stared for a few moments before chuckling. It would seem his stowaway had some tricks up her sleeve. He managed a bloodstained smile as Malia tried to help him to his feet, the fog worsening as she did. "You here to finish me off?"

"Don't tempt me," Malia made sure he wouldn't wobble over and fall in his condition. "I could still knock you out with this helmet, you know." She half joked, putting her arm around his back carefully. She was glad he was awake and more importantly breathing. She wouldn't admit it to his face, but she felt more comfortable around him then the Nova Corp; Space Cops or not. Besides he was her key home. Couldn't accomplish it if he was dead. Everything was just some big adventure now and she needed to play her role in it. She just hoped she didn't get killed along the way. 

"So...," She drawled out with a small smile. "I didn't really think past this point." She admitted. Thinking of what would happen if Wayne saw them wandering in the halls scared off any plans she was formulating. She could blend in, barely enough, but with Star Lord limping along...not really. It complicated things. She looked up at him with a touch of pity written across her face. "You really got your sh!t kicked in." She pressed the side of her thumb on his cheek and poked him out of payback.

“For earlier.”

Peter winced, wondering which thing he'd done earlier that that was for. Why did girls always end up hurting him? Even so, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so glad to see someone he didn't even know, even if they seemed to enjoy causing him pain. First thing's first, they weren't going to get out of here with him all foggy brained. Peter pulled away from Malia, putting a hand on the wall to keep himself upright. Time to use the old tried and true fog clearing method. Peter sighed before slapping himself as hard as he could. He had to laugh to keep from cursing up a storm as the pain took the place of the fog. It'd hold him for a few minutes. "Good morning!"

Peter straightened up, trying to think up a plan of some sort to get out of here and maybe kick Wayne's ass. He looked at Malia and had to chuckle. He could just imagine how she'd managed to get out of her cell and get a Nova uniform. Judging by the small amount of time he'd spent with her, he'd have to guess there was an unconscious Nova cadet laying somewhere. "Thanks for not ditching me and stuff." He rubbed the back of his head, finding a new spot that had taken a hard hit. It shouldn't be too hard to get to the hangar and boost a Nova ship. Peter sighed, thinking of the loss he'd be taking leaving his ship and its contents. He'd like to grab some stuff before leaving. 

Peter gave Malia a half smile. "Ready to go?" Malia nodded as he turned and pressed a button on the doors panel. The door hissed open and Peter found himself faced with a fairly short Nova cadet. Before he could react, the Nova held up a hand and took off her helmet. Peter breathed a sigh of slight relief. "Tochi." He paused, readying himself for anything. "You gonna turn us in?"

* * *

Tochi’s face lit up at the sight of the infamous Star Lord, once again before her. She straighten up, having the biggest smile plastered across her face. “Of course not!” 

She giggled, earning a raised eyebrow from Malia who looked on between the two of them. “Um, Hello?” She interjected, making herself present. She was sure this Tochi had a crush on Peter. It was as plain as day. But, she wondered if he knew this and was using it to his advantage. Her ready to do anything attitude earlier at their cell made her assume so. She shook her head, stifling a laugh.

Tochi cleared her throat and looked over her shoulders before speaking. “I think, I can sneak you two out here.” She whispered, only looking at Peter for confirmation. “But for a price!” She added quickly in a playful manner. Malia could already guess what she wanted.

Looking at Peter who appeared to be confused or at a lost for words, she couldn’t tell with his battered face, she stepped forward. “Yes, he’ll go on a space date with you.” She said, unable to hold back her chuckle. 

Tochi almost jumped out of her boots, “Really?”

“Uh...Well,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of any excuse out of it. Malia threw him a light glare and answered for him again.

“Yes. I’ll make sure of it. Now,” She softly pushed the Cadet into the hallway, “Let’s get out of here, please.” Earning a stern nod from Tochi, the blonde girl, put her helmet back on and faced both of them. She took out a pair of electronic handcuffs and motioned for their hands. 

“I have to make it convincing.” She clarified as she clasped the metal straps over their wrist, turned on her heel and proceeded to walk forward in a haste. “Keep up. Most Cadets are lounging around at this hour.” She explained in a low enough tone for only them to hear. Malia prayed Wayne didn’t surprise them and make things harder. However, something was telling her, freed or not, this wouldn’t be the last time they would see him. 

Slowing down her pace a little, Malia leaned over to Peter with narrowed eyes. “You know Tochi likes you right?” She asked, raising her face to catch his expression. The dumb look he had from earlier, still was there. A little too dumb. She gasped, putting two and two together, earning a glance from the Cadet herself out of curiosity. Malia smiled sheepishly. As soon as Tochi turned her attention away with a slight shrug, she pointed an excusing finger at Peter. 

“You slept with her!?”

Peter glanced at Tochi, hoping she hadn't heard Malia's not so quiet accusation. If she had she wasn't showing it. "Keep it down, will ya?" He stopped a good few feet behind Tochi as she peered around a corner, being careful to keep his voice down. "A couple years ago while she was still a trainee we hooked up, okay? Any other personal questions you want to blurt out?"

Tochi looked back at the pair and held a finger to her lips. "Quiet. We don't want to draw any undue attention."

Peter walked forward to join Tochi at the corner. "We're going to need a ship. Your buddies put some pretty big holes in the engine of mine."

Tochi motioned for them to follow before continuing. "Get in front of me so it looks like I'm moving you." Peter nodded, picking up his pace to get out in front, Malia appearing at his side a few moments later. Tochi got close enough to them so they could hear her lowered voice. "You can take one of ours, but I don't recommend keeping it around for long. All Nova ships have a tracker in them."

Peter sighed as they rounded another corner to find yet another nondescript corridor. "Of course they do. How much storage space do one of those ships of yours have?"

Tochi looked over her shoulder. "Enough for supplies in case of a crash, why?"

Peter wiped some blood from his cheek. "Because there's some stuff in my ship I need to grab."

Malia rolled her eyes as Tochi cocked her head. "What stuff?"

Peter cleared his throat. Well, my contraband of course. "Just some of the essentials."

Malia shook her head. "It's 'essential' that we get off of this space jail."

Peter held up a hand. "It won't take long. And you don't have to say space before everything, you know?"

Tochi put a hand on Peter's shoulder, stopping him and turning him around. "Please don't tell me you're getting anything, well, shady. I'm already taking a big risk helping you out and it would just really, really suck to have that tacked on as well."

Peter looked at Tochi, grateful her eyes were hidden by the helmet. It'd make the lying he was about to do easier. "Well, first off it's 'supposedly' shady, and no. I'm just grabbing some stuff."

Tochi nodded, a smile crossing her face. "Good, now keep going... prisoner."

Peter faked a smile and turned back around. He wasn't exactly pleased with himself, but if he was going to get anywhere he'd need units, and some of that stuff hidden on his ship was worth a fair amount of it. The trio rounded another corner, the small corridor opening up into spacious hangar. A few Novas milled about, making Peter's anxiety bump up a few notches. His ship was still where it'd landed, his belongings spread out on the hangar floor for scrutinizing. A row of Nova ships sat a good thirty feet from there. Peter started to decide what was coming with them as they started towards his ship.

* * *

Malia peeked her head in and out from behind the large containers that kept them hiding enough, and glared at Peter. She couldn't believe this. Instead of heading toward a free Nova ship, they or rather he was waiting for the opportunity to get back on his ship. For illegal contraband! She turned to Tochi as an opening was in the clearing. "If he gets caught," She whispered. "Can I still get on a ship?" She added, earning a look from Peter and a giggle from the blond cadet. "It's only fair! God knows what will happen." Malia exclaimed, directly at Quill with a stern tone. She wanted to get out of here. Sooner than later. And fast.

As the Novas around the entrance of his ship cleared, Peter and Tochi started to move carefully forward. Malia watched from the spot she was in, crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn't going anywhere. If anything she'd go around the opposite direction, secure one of the Nova ship's and get an all clear. "I should've left that idiot back there." She grumbled as Tochi turned her attention back, confusion filling her features. She nudged Peter and pointed a finger at her. 

Malia tried to point over the container, hoping he understood her between sign language and muted sentences. She was certain he could read her lips. He was a con artist...space thief? Whatever he was! She stuck out her tongue, rolling her eyes and slowly started to move away from sight. If he didn't understand her, that was his lost. His confused look said it all. 

"Your friend is, um...nice," Tochi chuckled sheepishly, not sure of what to really make of Peter's companion. "Now," She placed a timer on her wrist watch and showed it to him. "Five minutes. That's all you have. I'll stay outside and divert any Nova elsewhere while your in there." She stated with beaming confidence.

Peter nodded before heading inside. He flashed back momentarily to Malia's face as she'd tackled him and awkwardly slapped his face. "Oh, she's the nicest." Peter ventured further into the ship, heading for his secret storage room. He glanced down for a moment, spying the fork that Malia had stabbed him with just a few hours earlier. "And sweet too, oh just so sweet." He popped into his room just to grab his satchel and a few personal items that the Novas must've thought unimportant. Pictures, a Han Solo figure, and his stash of candy all went into the bag. 

He headed into the hall and opened the panel into his secret storage. Being limited to what would fit in his satchel was a drawback, but he really didn't care for Tochi to find him carrying around contraband. He grabbed a pricey bottle of liquor that had survived Malia's flying and a few old coins he'd lifted from a museum. Everything else was packed up nice and tight and he didn't have the time. He sighed. "My clients are gonna be pissed."

Peter slipped back into the hall, carefully replacing the panel before making for the cockpit. Before grabbing the ladder, he picked up Malia's fork and stuffed it in his pocket. He poked his head up from the hatch, looking around the darkened cockpit before pulling himself up. Peter snatched his red leather jacket off of the pilot seat and put it on, digging in a pocket for his helm rig. He found it and put the device behind his ear as he crouched down and reached under the control console, pulling out his element guns and hooking them on either side of his waist. Peter sighed and patted the seat he'd spent the last year piloting the ship from. "See ya around." His gaze went to the windscreen for a moment, which was long enough for him to see Wayne making his way across the hangar. _**"Oh, fuck!"**_


	7. Chapter 7

On her way to the nearest aircraft, Malia’s eyes connected with Wayne’s proceeding figure. She knew it! Sooner or later he would pop up. Like a bad radio song. The Nova Cadets straightened up their posture as he calmly walked down the hangar and awaited their orders. She took the moment to hide quickly, losing her slippers in the process. She cursed under her breath and attempted to retrieve them. Someone would notice. As she crawled over with her heart pounding against her chest, she darted for her sandals and slid underneath a shuttle of sorts.

“My, My, My—,” She heard Wayne slowly drawl. Did he see her? Malia gulped and squeezed her eyes shut tight. Maybe she should’ve gone with Peter. This was it. She was going to get a real criminal record in the Galaxy. Dubbed all kinds of fancy cop terms for trying to escape home? And knowing Wayne, he’d enjoy every minute of it. ‘F!ck that guy’, she thought to herself, as she waited for her name to be echoed throughout the loading dock. But, it never came instead he mentioned…

“Cadet Tochi. What a mighty surprise.” 

Malia lifted her head up almost instantly and looked for the kind Nova girl who was helping them. She didn’t appear phased. Raising her hand into salute, Tochi acknowledged Wayne with a firm, “Sir!” Which earned her a nod of approval sent in her direction followed by something not so pleasant. Two Nova nembers approached to stand by her as Wayne made his way toward her. Malia prepared herself to run. What was he going to do?

“You wouldn’t know where our precious Star Lord is would you?” He asked in a sing song manner. He cocked his head to the side and abruptly raised one finger as if he forgot something. “And his little friend too.” He added with one of those clever smile of his. Malia could only glare at him from afar, catching a glimpse of Peter sneaking by the situation. The bastard! If she could, she would’ve thrown one of her slippers at him. Tochi was risking her career and he was just tip-toeing away!

“No, Commander! I haven’t seen either of them since the drop off.”

The two Nova Cadet’s who lingered beside her, without warning proceeded to restrain her as soon as she finished her sentence. Wayne then folded his arms behind his back and leaned forward, eyes narrowing. He whispered into Tochi's ears, earning a shocked expression from her. Malia wished she could've heard what it was, but she took the opportunity to crawl from under the shuttle and scurried into the Nova Aircraft. 

She was going to kill Peter.

* * *

Peter peeked over the crates he'd hidden behind just as Tochi was being led away and felt the familiar twinge of guilt. Would've been better just to have not gotten her involved at all. He ran plans through his head, none of them sounding very smart. If he was fast enough he may be able to stun some Novas and get to her, but he'd have to be impossibly fast. There were just too many Novas to do anything. "Damn." Peter glared at Wayne who now stood in the center of the hangar surveying his domain. Shooting him in the back crossed his mind, but he quickly filed that thought away. Killing a Nova wouldn't do him or Malia any good. Malia!

Peter looked around the hangar for his companion, not seeing any trace of her. In his scanning he caught Tochi's eyes as she looked back and gave him a small smile. 'Aw, now I feel way worse' Peter thought as he tried to return the expression. There really was nothing he could do without getting himself put back in a cell, and that would negate everything she'd done to help him in the first place. Peter thought he caught sight of Malia peeking through the windscreen of a Nova ship and slowly started towards the craft. Tochi wasn't there to clear them for departure, so he'd have to come up with something for that as well. 

Peter tried to calm his mind and focus on the task at hand, that task being get back to Malia. Even though he was sure she could take care of herself, she was still an earth girl in completely uncharted territory. She'd be as lost as one could possibly be. Peter glanced around before boarding the ship, being careful not to make too much noise. He climbed the ladder into the cockpit and was immediately met with Malia's glare. Without a word he climbed the rest of the way and looked over the controls. He didn't need her help to feel guilty right now.

Malia held her tongue, for the sake of the situation and stared at Peter without a word as he entered the cockpit. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, for Tochi, but she figured it could wait. Wayne was still nearby. Too close to start yelling and hitting Peter for his behavior. She sighed and slowly approached him with her arms crossed over her chest. "Can we just get out of here!?" She whispered. 

"Blast out of this place before Wayne comes and gets us!" She added, peeking her head around the window to catch the retreating figure of said Commander, hands clasped behind his back. She could only assume it was to interrogate Tochi. Which meant...they had an opening. "Look!" Malia grabbed Peter by his collar and pointed at the scene. "He's leaving."

She glanced at him then at the controls. She definitely wasn't going to get behind the wheel again. Ever. Sitting cautiously behind the pilot chair, she waited for Peter to respond. She was getting anxious with each minute that was passing. She was about sick of this place already. 

Peter was stalling, unsure of what to do. He booted up the ship's computer and tapped his way to the navigation system. First things first, where were they? He studied the screen for a few moments before narrowing his eyes. They were pretty far out of the way, just as he'd suspected. Once they got out of here they'd need a place to lay low and ditch the ship. He tapped the computer again, looking for a nearby... anything. The closest world was Rajak. It was perfect! They could ditch the ship on the outskirts of one of the districts and disappear inside. Now that that was settled, all he had to do was figure out how to get out of this place. 

Peter looked out the window to see most of the Novas leaving the hangar. He doubted they'd be letting the force field down with two escapees running around, so he'd have to make a way out. How? He had no idea. Maybe if he shot the sh*t out of it? Man, he wished he had Rocket's brain about now. Peter turned the ship's engine on and carefully raised it up. He wasn't too accustomed to flying a Nova ship. Peter engaged the weapon system, using the computer to aim the cannons mounted on the bottom of the ship. The reticulum hovered over the edge of the door where the force field emanated from. Peter hoped that it was more for keeping folks out then in before pressing the fire button. The cannon roared, sending red hot rounds tearing into the metal frame of the door. Peter smiled as the force field began to flicker. 

He glanced back at Malia. "You should hang on!" Peter let a few more rounds rip through the door frame, then the force field shut down. Crates, ships and anything not nailed down were pulled towards the opening and out into the blackness of space. Peter pushed the ship forward, knocking floating objects out of the way as he did. The ship burst out of the hangar, doing a barrel roll before Peter righted the vessel. He glanced back at the station as a metal door closed over hangar, sealing the hole he'd made. "That should stall them for a bit."

Once the ship was into the vast openness of space, Malia took comfort in pacing back and forth. The Nova Ship wasn’t big enough for her to disappear and hyperventilate in peace so she opted in remaining mildly calm, while Peter slouched in the pilot chair, complaining about losing his walkman. She turned him in and out as she walked not feeling talkative and wrung her hands. Letting out a deep sigh, she stopped in her tracks upon hearing him mention some sort of travel ‘jump,’ to reach their destined planet. “Okay,” She only nodded, not fully understanding what the term meant and buckled herself into the chair beside him. 

“Ready.” 

Holding onto the armrest beside her, Malia squeezed her eyes shut at the press of the button, feeling her whole soul almost leave her body for a quick instant. Her eyes fluttered open to find in the distant, a purple, blue colored planet. “My goodness,” She barely mumbled, taking in the scenery. She always did find space interesting. At least how they made it seem in the sci-fi movies. Being so close and personal to it was an experience of its own. She smiled, feeling oddly relieved, and took a second to glance at Peter, who was staring back at her. 

“Yup,” He nodded as if she had asked him a question. “Rajak.” 

She held onto his glance until it became a bit awkward and looked back at the Planet. “Well...,” She pointed a finger to it. “Let’s get in there, shall we?” And avoided looking at him. She had to admit, Peter was attractive. His sandy brown hair and hazel eyes combo. With all the yelling, hitting and being stuck in the space dilemma she was in, she really hadn’t taken notice. She could only imagine how many alien chicks he’d messed with. Malia paused in her train of thought for a second and made a face. ‘Ew.’ Now she was getting all sorts of mental pictures!

“Hello? Anybody in there?”

At the sound of Peter’s voice, she snapped herself out of her reverie, jumping from surprise and turned in his direction. “Huh?” She uttered, noticing they were no longer moving. How long was she thinking to herself? Glancing around, she stood from the chair, wobbling to her left. Oh boy! She threw her hands out forward frantically as she tipped over and fell onto Peter's chest unexpectedly. "Sorry," She mumbled. "Earth legs," She joked, pushing herself off of him with an awkward smile.

Peter stood up and straightened his jacket, amused at Malia's being flustered. He hadn't pegged her for the awkward type at all. It was weird seeing her like this after her displays of sheer ballsiness the past... however long it'd been. "It's fine. It takes a while to get your space legs." His mind wandered back to the days following his snatching from earth and chuckled darkly "I know it took me a while."

He turned his attention outside the ship, trying to see through the heavy rain. All he could see was the faint glow of neon through the darkness. He'd landed them just outside one of Rajak's seedier districts, the only one he knew actually. The plan was this... find a bar. It was more involved then that, but that was the main objective. He'd ditch the Nova ship with its tracker and disappear into the district's crowded alleyways. After that he'd find a bar (preferably a shady one) where he could find a buyer for his contraband. After that he didn't know. All of his stuff, not to mention his ship, was sitting back at Nova base. He was sure Malia would want to get back home asap. 

Peter looked over at Malia, his eyes wandering down to look at the I'll fitting Nova uniform she was still wearing. She sticks out like a sore thumb. Malia cleared her throat, drawing Peter's attention back up to her face. He turned away, rubbing the back of his head and smiling sheepishly. "We're gonna have to get you something else to wear. You'll draw way too much attention wearing Nova colors." Peter shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her. "This'll have to do for now."

Malia took the jacket, giving him a small smile as she did. "Thanks,"

Peter nodded and pressed a button on the control panel, making the entrance ramp at the back of the ship open. He made his way down the ramp and looked out at the darkness. The sound of the rain was damn near deafening as it beat against the metal of the ship. He looked at Malia as she stood next to him. She had a look of wonder on her face, something Peter didn't see very often in the often cynical company he kept. He adjusted his satchel and cleared his throat. "Listen, this district isn't exactly what you'd call an upstanding community. So, you're gonna need a weapon." Peter pulled the fork she'd used on him earlier from his waistband and held it out to her, trying keep a straight face as he did. 

"O-okay...?" Malia stared at her barbecue utensil as if it were a foreign object, before slowly taking it from his hand. She placed it inside one of his jacket's pocket and patted the outside material to make sure it wouldn't fall. "There," She looked up at him with a smile that faded as soon as she noticed Peter covering his mouth in an attempt to not laugh. "It's not funny!" She shoved him backward, seeing him erupt into a fit of chuckles and hold his sides. She should've known better. Rolling her eyes, Malia groaned loudly out of frustration and walked off ahead. Yes it was a fork, but why give it to her then? That was all she really had and her now gone pajamas...

She sighed and slowed down in her step. Where the hell was she going anyway? Looking back the way she came, she made out Peter's figure through the heavy rain not too far behind. She honestly was shocked space had weather changes. Recalling his words about the planet's district's safety, she decided to keep close to him. He knew as well as she did, her barbecue fork would break easily against whatever alien threat was out there. If worse push came to shove, she'd run and hide. 

"Peter?" Malia hovered a hand over her eyes. She swore she saw him behind her, but now there was no one there. "This isn't funny!" She repeated again. The rain was becoming heavier by the second. Soon enough she wouldn't be able to make out anything but the ground beneath her. Feeling a surge of panic kick in, she began to go back where she came. "Peter!?" She called out, hearing her own panic through her voice. What if she was lost? She shook her head, strands of hair sticking to the side of her face. She couldn't be. Not having walked just a few minutes ahead. 

She held onto herself, squeezing Peter's jacket tightly around her and trying her hardest not to freak out. "Peter, can you hear me!?" She shouted into the roaring rain before looking in all different directions. She wiped the cold droplets of water away from her eyes and squinted at the brief light that emitted from up ahead. She didn't remember if Peter had a flashlight of sorts on him, but it could be someone that could help her. Or so she hoped. 

"Hello? Sir...Miss?" Malia waved her hand to draw their attention as she drew closer. She received no response back. "Please don't let it be a rock." She mumbled to herself, tripping over her own feet momentarily. "Can you help...me?" Her words slowly drawled out one by one as she got close enough to see the light that wasn't quite so. It was a person. But not Peter. And at the thought and realization, she felt her stomach sink. Whatever planet district they were in, it was dangerous. His words came folding back in again as the figure turned fully around.

Peter wiped a tear from his eye as his laughter died down. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." He straightened up, letting one last chuckle escape before looking back at his companion. Malia wasn't by his side anymore. Peter rolled his eyes. "Come on, it was a joke." He looked back inside the ship, figuring she'd gone back inside in a huff. Peter's brow furrowed at the sight of the empty ship. "Malia?" He whipped back around, scanning the darkness for Malia. "You shouldn't wander off!" There was no sign of her in the downpour. "Malia!"

The only response Peter received was the roar of the rain. "Shit." He reached behind his ear to activate his helm and received a shock from the device. Peter pulled his hand back instinctively, holding it with the other. "Fine, don't work then." He grumbled as his mind jumped to conclusions. She wouldn't have just wandered off, would she? "It's dangerous out there, come on!" Still no answer. Now he was starting to worry. What if something had snatched her while he was laughing at her? Better not have, he'd feel really bad if that was the case. 

Peter thought he heard a voice calling him from the darkness. It was definitely female, and more pressingly sounded panicked. Peter drew his guns and stepped out into the torrent. He squinted, trying his hardest to see in the inky blackness. "Malia!" Peter took a few quick steps forward, his worry turning to panic. Sh*t like this was why humans had a bad rep out here. The rain grew heavier, pinning Peter's hair to his brow. He pushed some of the longer strands away from his eyes. Would he even be able to hear her in this weather? 

_ "Peter, can you hear me!?" _

Peter turned towards the direction he thought the voice had come from. "Malia?! I can hear you!" He waited a few seconds, his heart dropping when he received no answer. Peter shook his head. He wasn't gonna be responsible for some earth girl getting killed on a distant planet. His guns hummed as he checked to make sure they were prepped. He raised both weapons, their faint glow the only light he had. "I'm coming!" Peter started forward, venturing further into the abyss like darkness.

* * *

It would only take a second, to turn around, run and not look back. A mere instant, but Malia’s feet wouldn’t move, even with the pure panic that had taken over her. As the figure reared it’s head toward her direction, she trembled and threw out a hand frantically in attempt to tell them to ‘stop.’ She didn’t need them to get any closer for the sake of her safety. “I’m sorry to bother you,” She uttered out with her hand still raised outward. “I-I…,” She wasn’t sure of what more to say. She couldn’t explain too much or tell them about...she flicked her eyes over to the figure at the sound of moving and left her incomplete thoughts.

The figure had moved to face her completely. Still unable to make out any facial features, she noticed some resemblance of clothes. A trench coat and a..., she squinted her eyes and raised her extended hand over them. And a mask? That was why. Malia took an abrupt step backward, feeling strangely uncomfortable by the fact. It was the gleam from their mask she had seen way back there. She figured as much, as a small light bounced off it. But where was it even coming from? She opened her mouth to bid them goodbye, before being interrupted. 

“May I help you, Young Lady?” 

Malia stifled back a gasp as they spoke, noticing the undertones of their voice was male and took another step back. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. The strange man, cocked a head to the side, the metal cowl he wore making itself more present. It reminded her of one of those helmets from Destiny; enclosed and shining. As the rain became too heavy to bare anymore, she answered back. “Yes. I’m...lost.” And shook Peter’s leather jacket off to hover it over her head. She could barely see the man before, now it had gotten even worse with the overbearing shower beating around them.

She always thought the worst in strangers and this was no different, but it was. Much more so with her being on some alien planet she knew nothing of besides their districts being ‘dangerous.’ She looked at the outline of the man, what she could make out and kept her attention locked on it. Any foul play and she would haul her ass out of there. Until then, maybe he could actually help her. Point her in the right direction. “Uh, I lost my way from my ship.” She began to explain loudly over the roaring rain. 

“A ship?” He repeated. 

“Yes. I only need a point in the right direction and then…,” Her words slowly fell off as the stranger came into clear view and stood right in front of her. He did wear a trench coat. Getting a better look at him, she assumed he was an outlaw? And a rich one. The odd patterns on his vest told her as much, along with the metallic material on his wrist. He was either a successful one or royalty. She opt for the first option upon noticing a gun of some kind strapped to the side of his thigh. 

This had to end well. 

Smiling, she continued on with her sentence, “And then I could be on my merry way.” 

“Well, if that’s all you really need…,” He tapped the side of his helmet. “Then of course.” And extended his arm out to the side. “I believe you came from that direction.” He pointed behind her and she turned to see a trail of blue leading off into the distance. She stared at it in awe, adjusting the jacket over her head and sneezed unexpectedly, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Now, I would ask how a human like yourself found herself all the way out here,” He announced as the rain suddenly began to clear. “But, I’m afraid I have no time for stories today.” 

Malia furrowed her eyebrows, confused. “All the way out here?” She glanced over at the stranger. Had she really gone that far from Peter? The long jarring trail of blue was telling, but she had only walked a few minutes out from where the ship was before turning to go back. She felt an uneasy feeling jab at her insides. That couldn’t be remotely true. Staring at the man beside her, she gripped the material of Peter’s jacket. What the hell was he telling her?

He remained silent for the minutes to come and turned his head in the opposite direction as if he caught sight of something she couldn’t see with her own eyes. He snapped his fingers again and started to abruptly walk away from her, the tails of his coat flapping against the gust of picked up wind. “Follow the trail.” He remained her sternly as his figure began to fade. She blinked and squeezed her eyes shut to make sure she wasn’t seeing things and remained in shock. “What in the…?” 

Turning to see the blue light he had created still there, Malia sprinted alongside it completely freaked out. She called out for Peter with each stride she took forward, putting on his jacket once again. Had he stopped the rain too? The question lodged in her mind. She hadn’t even asked for his name. Glancing momentarily back over her shoulder to see if it were a trick, she saw nothing. Not even the lingering color of the trail. She slowed down to walk the remain distant and held onto herself. 

“Peter? Peter can you—oomph!” 

She collided face first into a broad surface and wobbled backward, feeling a pair of arms keep her in place. Once she noticed she hadn’t fallen over, she opened one eye to meet her next obstacle. Sighing with a wave of relief, she enclosed her arms over the figure in front of her.

“Peter.”

Peter was caught off guard by Malia's reaction to him. "Uh, hey." After a few moments he awkwardly returned the embrace, still holding his guns. It was the closest thing to friendly gesture he'd gotten in a long time. After a few seconds they broke apart and he returned his weapons to either hip. He gave her a small smile and pointed as though he were scolding a child. "Don't do that again."

Peter took a deep breath and shook his head. He was either beginning to like this girl or he was going to kill her. The neon of the district could be seen faintly through the storm. He tapped Malia's arm and pointed towards the district. "Come on, and don't wander off this time. I'm gonna have to get a bell to put on you or something."

Malia raised her brow. "What?"

Peter shook his head and pointed up at the sky. "Can't hear you, rain's too loud."

It didn't take them long to reach the edge of the district. The buildings were all crowded together, the tight space already making Peter uncomfortable. Peter ran a hand through his soaked hair, slicking it back and away from his face. The district seemed pretty quiet, which given the time of night made sense. They should be able to find a place to sit for a while. Peter looked at Malia, the Nova colors showing through the open jacket. He sighed and started to zip it up for her. "Have some shame, will you?"

Malia slapped his hand away and finished zipping the jacket herself. Peter stepped into a grimy alleyway, keeping his right hand on one of his guns just in case. He'd been to Rajak before, but that had been years ago. It was the first big job he'd tagged along for, a heist. It'd been raining that night too. He shook himself out of the memory as he reached the alley's end and peered out into the street. Well, less a street and more just a more open alley. Neon signs bathed the area in a myriad of colors, making for a strangely beautiful sight. A holographic bulletin board was running through a cycle of ads and the like. 

Peter made his way towards the board, hoping a bar would be promoting itself at some point. He glanced over his shoulder at Malia, her eyes wandering all over the place. The board flickered through a bunch of ads and some stuff Peter couldn't read. He was beginning to get tired of watching when something caught his eye. The board had switched over to a pair of wanted posters, both of which made his heart sink. The first was of him and looked to be from the cell of the Nova base. More specifically, of him giving the finger in the cell at the Nova base. The second was of Malia. Her image had been captured right as she'd tackled him in the hangar. The look on her face made her look like a lunatic. 

Peter leaned against the holographic projector, blocking it from Malia's view. He put on a smile that he was sure looked fake. 'Any and all deities, please let her not have seen that.'

Malia felt herself bump into Peter for what seemed like the umpteenth time, her attention being drawn back from the district they walked through. "What?" She whispered, knitting her brows together. "Why did we stop? Did you see something?" She asked all at once, noticing the awkward smile he had plastered on his face. "A Nova?" She whipped her head around like a chicken with its head cut off and scanned their surroundings. Aliens of different shades walked, going on about their business. Some stared at her with strange expressions as they passed and she quickly turned away. "There's nothing! Peter your—oh my god!" Her eyes caught sight of the billboard behind his head, the wanted logo underneath a picture of her, leaving her speechless. 

Peter took the opportunity to lead her away from it as she was stuck in a state of shock and laughed nervously. He didn’t want one of her episodes to happen...especially in front of ill fitting company. “Look, it happens.” He started to make conversation, hoping it’d ease her mind. She walked hopelessly beside him, from time to time, still looking back in disbelief. “I’ve been up there plenty of times. It’s not so bad.” He added as Malia threw him a look. He gave her a skeptical smile and swallowed back some spit. Deciding it was best to remain quiet, he placed back his focus on their destination. He could use a few drinks about now; and a lot more afterward.

The silence that swept between them as they pushed through the district crowds soon was replaced by the chatter and noise of it’s inhabitants. Malia stayed in the comfort of her own thoughts, keeping an eye on her footing, and took in more of the Rajak environment. The image of the billboard hadn’t fully left the back of her mind yet, but she figured it came with the territory she was now in. Smiling at a small pink child that waved in her direction, she lifted her hand to return the gesture. The streets reminded her a lot of New York. Same crowds, vendors...peculiar woman on corners and the overbearing noise. It was practically the same just with alien species. 

Looking at a crowd off in the distance, Malia followed with her eyes one of the retreating figures. She recalled the stranger from earlier as his trench coat became visible among the sea of bodies. “It’s that guy,” She barely let out in a whisper, seeing things around her slow down all of a sudden. That same uneasy feeling started to settle in again, jabbing at her stomach. Frantically, she reached out for Peter’s arm and drew her attention back ahead once she felt nothing. Peter was no longer there. No one was anymore. She stood alone, amidst the empty street with…

She looked over her shoulders hesitantly as the sound of heavy footsteps reached her ears. The masked stranger still walked off in the distant, gun no longer strapped to the side of his thigh but held in one hand. Malia wasn’t sure of what was happening, his words randomly popping into her head. ‘How did you make it all the way out here?’ Where was here? And how did she get there. She took a wary step forward, deciding to keep walking. He felt like a threat and she didn’t know how to explain it. Giving one more glance over her shoulder, she froze entirely in her tracks as his head turned toward her.

He paused in his stride and Malia bolted instantly, closing her eyes. “Please, please, please,” She repeated to herself as the faint sound of noise slowly started to make itself known around her. The unknown alien banter filled the streets again with its residents. And as soon as it did, she threw herself into the crowds, apologizing while pushing through the bodies. At the sight of Peter’s silhouette she reached out for his arm and enclosed her arms around his, letting out a shaky breath. Had he noticed she was even gone? Looking up at him to catch his blue eyes, looking down to catch her own plain brown ones, she searched for words to say. 

“Are we there yet?”

Peter noted Malia's distress, but decided not to put her on the spot about it. It was understandable given the circumstances. He'd have to get used to having someone else around again. He gestured towards the metal door framed by neon alien symbols, clearing his throat. "We have arrived at our," The sound of an alien violently throwing up beside the door cut him off. "gross destination." 

Malia wrinkled her nose as Peter started towards the door. "Where is here, exactly?"

Peter shrugged, being careful not to slip into the alien mess. "Someplace that looks like a place that one would be able to sell," He paused, not wanting to openly admit the illegal dealings he was looking to participate in. "candy." Adjusting his satchel he pushed open the door, immediately taking in the smell of alcohol. The inside of the place was bathed in the red glow of neon. One large circular bar stood as the centerpiece of the room, with a few open feet of floor before a ring of tables. After the tables were more floor before the half circle booths that were set inside the walls. Some mellow synthesizer music played from some unseen speakers giving the place an otherworldly, well, more otherworldly feel.

Seemingly every eye in the place turned towards the pair as they entered, making Peter chuckle nervously. Malia joined him, standing at his side. She leaned closer, holding a hand to her mouth as though she were whispering a secret. "Record scratch."

Peter let out a short laugh, earning him a hard glare from a nearby patron. He straightened up and cleared his throat, giving the drinker a mock salute as he walked past. The customers all resumed their normal talking and drinking after a few seconds, much to Peter's relief. Hopefully none of them would recognize him or Malia from the wanted poster and get any ideas. He took a seat on a rickety stool, carefully trying to balance himself. The grizzled looking bartender lumbered over them, looking the pair over. "What'd you want?"

Peter wasn't sure his exactly to go about asking what he needed to know without looking suspicious. He leaned on the bar wit both arms. "We're just passing through and could use some pointers about the place."

The barman sighed "I got a bar to run, so make it quick."

Peter nodded his thanks, still piecing together what he was going to say. "Well, we need a place to stay first off. And if you know of anywhere I could, say, sell my 'candy'."

The old alien pointed towards the door. "There's an inn of sorts around the corner, as for your 'candy'." He dragged out the two syllables for all they were worth as he said it. "Just pick a street corner like all the other prostitutes."

Malia's hand flew to her mouth as she tried to stop her laugh from escaping. Peter looked at her, eyes narrowed before looking back at the barman. "No, 'candy' was code." The old alien raised an eyebrow, clearly not picking up on the hint. Peter sighed. "Where can I sell some sh*t?"

The barman shrugged. "Depends. There's a pawn place around if that's what you're after."

Peter shook his head, leaning in a bit closer. "It's a bit more sensitive then that."

The man waved off an antsy customer. "Come on, I gotta get back to it."

Peter held up a hand as he unbuckled his satchel with the other. He reached inside, pulling up the bottle of rare booze up just enough fro the barman to see it. "I got that and some old pocket change."

The barman eyed the bottle up until Peter returned it to it's place. "I'll take that off your hands."

Peter sat up straight. "You will?"

The alien shrugged. "Sure. Eighty units."

A stunned look crossed Peter's face before he shook his head. "It's worth that times a hundred!" He glanced sideways. "I think."

The barman dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Suit yourself."

Peter continued to shake his head, looking at Malia as she watched the situation unfold. He didn't want to put her through a night huddled in a flooded alley. Peter groaned, cursing his conscious as he raised his hand. "We'll take it."

The barman glanced over his shoulder before reaching under the bar and pulling out the credits. He sat them in front of Peter who mumbled every curse word he knew as he handed the bottle over. "Pleasure doing business."

Peter smirked then ran a hand down his face. He'd have to hope that those coins would be enough to get them way more units then the liquor had. Peter looked at Malia, watching her eyes as she scanned the room. "You okay?"

"Yeeah," She drawled out, being cautious to not bump into anything or anyone. The bar's customers didn't look very friendly. She inched closer to Peter, squeezing herself in between him and the empty stool over, not having the need to sit down and stared off into the distance. In the possible case trouble broke out, she'd be ready to run. There were plenty of drunken aliens around to make that happen. And with Peter's careless attitude, it was almost a certainty. She only hoped nothing actually happened for their unlucky sake. 

Turning around to place her hands on the bar, Malia watched as the barman slid two drinks over to Peter while grumbling something incoherent and continued to serve his other customers. "He wouldn't happen to have a kitchen back there, would he?" She wondered out loud, not really wanting to admit that she was hungry. But, she hadn't eaten since the beginning and the constant growling from her stomach was a very clear reminder of that. 

Peter chugged back one of his drinks, before reaching for the other one and glanced at her momentarily. "How about a liquid dinner?" He raised his over topped glass of strange colored alcohol with a cheeky grin placed on his lips. "C'mon," He winked, earning a short laugh from Malia and a stern 'no.' She wasn't much of a drinker. Besides, she was sure whatever it was he was drinking would kill her on an empty stomach. All she wanted was a normal enough meal, change of clothes and a warm bath. 

She closed her eyes for a second to imagine the sense of comfort, sighing deeply and then groaned loudly to catch Peter’s attention once again. He turned, while gulping down yet another drink and raised a skeptical brow in her direction. “Change your mind?” He smirked, wiggling his now empty glass in the air. Malia took it from his hand, being careful not to smash it and slid it across the bar surface with a glare. “No! Now stop drinking and let’s go sell the rest of your…,” She raised her fingers to make air quotes, “candy!” And squeezed herself back out of the rickety stools she was stuck between.

“I’m hungry, tired, and need a bath!” 

Her voice unexpectedly echoed over the bar’s bustling environment and several beady eyes snapped over in her direction with great disdain. She chuckled nervously and waved off her outburst as if it were a mistake, and slowly made her way out of the bar, throwing Peter a threatening glance on the way out. He only blinked at her, mouth hung open from the surprise and looked around the room to notice all eyes were now on him. Starting to awkwardly laugh himself, he stole a drink from a nearby customer, finished it and hopped off his stool.

_ “Chicks, am I right?” _


	8. Chapter 8

Peter hurried out the door after her, a bit wobbly on his feet from the drinks. The rainfall had lightened considerably wit just a light drizzle remaining. Malia stood wither arms folded across her chest, her eyes watching the sky above. Peter put his hands in his pocket and turned his attention upwards as well. "I bet it'd be a lot prettier without all the light." Malia didn't respond. "I take it you're not actually okay then."

Malia looked at him, shaking her head as a small smile crossed her lips. "Your powers of observation are just unmatched, aren't they?" Peter met her look for a moment, her brown eyes looking into his as she continued to slowly shake her head. "I'm not okay, but it doesn't matter. Don't need to be okay to keep moving forward."

Peter couldn't help but smile at the look of determination she had when she said that last part. "The best people I know are severely not okay. There's a guy I know back on good old Terra Firm who's probably the least okay person I know, but man, he's done some incredible stuff. Like, amazing sh*t, sh*t I can't even wrap my head around. You ask him if he's okay his answer will be 'I'm always okay'. You don't have to be okay to kick all kinds of ass."

Malia laughed lightly. "I guess so." She straightened up and put her hands on her hips. "We going to that inn or what?"

Peter nodded as he unbuckled his satchel and reached inside. "Yeah, I guess." He produced a candy bar and held it out to Malia. "Here you go."

Malia eyed the bar for only a moment before snatching it from his hand. "Maybe having a man child around isn't so bad after all."

Peter narrowed his eyes at her as he readjusted his Han Solo figure in his bag. "First off, am not. Secondly, you're welcome."

Malia tore into the candy's wrapper and started to devour the bar as they made for the inn. She looked around the street as they walked, taking in the sights of this alien world. "You know, this place is actually a lot like home."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Really?" She nodded before taking another bite of her candy. Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "Ain't no alien planet ever reminded me of home."

Malia watched him for a few moments as he got lost in thinking about his hometown on earth. "You okay?"

Peter laughed, putting on a confident look. "Me? I'm always okay."

“Right.” Malia took his odd response with a grain of salt and a bit of skepticism. She never really had asked him anything about, well...himself. She did recall the brief facts about Missouri and he coming from Earth, like her — but that was it. She looked at him for a brief moment as they drew closer to the Inn’s door and paused, almost forgetting one important fact he mentioned. He was half-human. Whatever that meant. Finishing off the last bit her candy bar, Malia stuffed the wrapper into one of her jacket’s front pockets and wiped her hands against her pant’s suit. 

“Alright.” She mentally prepared herself as she put a hand on the Inn’s front door and slowly pushed it forward, knitting her eyebrows together once she stepped foot inside. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was expecting from an Alien Inn, but it wasn’t was she was taking in. The inside was raggedy to say the least. Discolored walls surrounded the small check out area, uncoordinating with the mix match tiling of the floors and old chairs that laid near some very dead plants. “Wow,” Malia felt herself whisper, taking notice of the checkout girl.

Even she stood out, with her turquoise colored skin and flaming red hair. Not bothering to look up from the magazine she was reading, while popping her gum, the receptionist took a pen from a bin and waved it in the air. “Sign your names please,” She carelessly uttered. “And tell me what kind of room ya want,” She added, pointing at the small bedroom descriptions behind her. 

“Um…,” Malia threw Peter a nervous glance before approaching the front desk and taking the lifeless pen from the girl’s hand. Her eyes slowly then darted about the crinkled page of the check-in book, strange names littered above the only signal space left. She hesitated for a moment as she thought of some alias to put in place for their actual names and smiled, feeling quite confident with the ones she scribbled.

"Room?" The counter girl mentioned again, lifting her attention from her Magazine and taking both the pen and book from Malia's hands. She raised an eyebrow and pointed at the names Malia had written down. "Leia Organa?" She read. "And...Han Solo?" She looked on between Peter and Malia as if the names were fake, but suddenly shrugged and popped her gum. "Okay. Room?" She pointed again at sign behind her head.

Malia stared at the sign blankly, the alien writing completely lost on her. "Uh, Peter?"

Peter glanced at the sign and furrowed his brow. He could only pick out a word here and there. With the translator in his helm he'd never really had a need to learn the alien languages, so with it on the fritz he was at a bit of a loss. He decided to use the tried and true method of picking at random by pointing. "That one."

The counter girl glanced over her shoulder for a moment before looking back between the pair and throwing up her eyebrows. "Alright."

Peter narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher what her reaction was about. "What? Is that a bad room?"

The girl shrugged. "It's alright, you folks just didn't strike me as the type is all."

Malia cleared her throat, stepping forward and putting her hands on the counter. "What type is that, exactly?"

The girl cocked her head, staring at Malia vacantly. "You know, the 'adventurous' type. Whatever it takes to keep that fire burning, I guess."

Malia's eyes flew open as she shot and accusing look at Peter. "Peter?!"

Peter held up a hand, laughing nervously. "Just a second. What about the next one?"

The girl behind the counter wrinkled her nose. "Really?"

Peter glanced at Malia and frantically shook his head. "No! Not that one. Whatever it is, no."

Malia covered her forehead in the palm of her hand and shook her head. "Don't you have any... normal rooms?"

The girl reached under the counter and handed Malia a key card. "That should do. How many hours do you want?"

Malia walked off with a mortified look on her face, leaving Peter to deal with the check in. "Eight should do."

The girl tapped away on her computer. "Hm, ambitious aren't we?"

Peter cleared his throat, glancing back at Malia who stood a few feet away. He leaned a bit closer to the girl. "What's the name if this place, by the way?"

"Peter."

Peter sheepishly looked back at Malia. "So... so I can make sure to never come here again."

Malia rolled her eyes as the girl finished typing. "Forty credits."

Peter sighed and handed over the money. That plus the drinks left them with twenty credits. Those coins wold really have to make them some, well, coin. He walked over to Malia who eyed him with a skeptical look. "I didn't know, I swear."

She sighed before turning and making towards the stairwell. "Uh-huh."

Peter shook his head before following her. The counter girl called after them as they disappeared through the door. "Y'all have a good night or whatever."

Much to Malia’s surprise, the room the receptionist had given her and Peter was relatively normal. Like most Motel Rooms seen on TV, it had one large bed placed in the middle, a beat up nightstand and lamp on either side and a small bathroom located near the door. “Thank Goodness…,” She let out between a withered breath, feeling genuinely relieved. There were no strange markings or stains as far as she could see either; their room being decent enough for a good night's sleep. Placing the key card on one of the nightstands, Malia shook off Peter’s leather jacket and made her way to the bathroom. 

“I’m taking a bath,” She looked over at Peter, who was making himself comfortable and pointed an already accusing finger at him. “Don’t try anything funny or so help me…” She ranted as she stepped inside the poorly lit bathroom and closed the door behind her, leaving the rest of her sentence to be muffled by the sound of water. She sat herself on the edge of the tub and inspected the materials in the bathroom, before quickly locking the door and undressing. “Please, no weird shit.” She grumbled under her breath as she took a bottle of what seemed like shampoo and squeezed it in her hand.

Letting the warm water soak through her exhausted body, Malia allowed her thoughts to run wild while she slowly washed her head. In the back of her mind, she still held an image of the guy with the Destiny helmet, his words stuck on replay. Who was he? And what did he really mean? So many questions she frankly was unsure could get answered. She was afraid to tell Peter. What if he told her something she didn’t want to hear, forcing her to stay. She would curse herself a million times if she could for ever stepping foot in his ship. 

But, she knew it wasn’t his fault, but her own. Turning the shower’s faucet off, Malia carefully exited out the bathtub and wrapped her body around a towel. Steam from the warm water she had used fogged the windows, it’s lingering smoke visible enough to see. She wiped the glass over with one of her hands and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked like herself this time; not pale or dirtied up. Her olive skin tone had its color back again and her hair some of its natural shine. She could use some make up for the bags under her eyes though. 

Giggling at her own thought, Malia dusted off the Nova uniform she wore, missing the comfort of her pajamas and began to put them back on. Making sure she hadn’t left a mess, out of pure habit, she opened the bathroom door and stepped back outside. “All done.” She announced with a small smile as Peter looked up from a magazine she assumed he found laying around some place. “Um,” She awkwardly sat herself on the edge of the bed and dried her hair. “I guess...we can share the bed?” She added, noting there were no couches for him to sleep on, just the cold floor.

Peter leaned on the wall, his attention drawn from the magazine to Malia. He watched as she dried her hair, looking back at his magazine whenever she looked his way. The way she was handling herself really was nothing short of impressive. Just a few short hours ago she'd been huddled up on his ship, terrified, lost. He couldn't get out of his head just how much she'd reminded him of his younger self in that moment, it just kept coming back. All that'd gotten him through that was his music, but he'd have given anything to have... well, anyone at that time. Just one single friend in an unfamiliar and unforgiving galaxy. He could be that for her, or at least try. Being a good friend wasn't something he was often accused of. 

He also felt a bit responsible for her on some levels. Sure, she'd wandered onto his ship and gotten herself into this, but if he didn't help her out she'd be dead. Ever since his falling out with the Guardians he'd just been... drifting. But, now he had a mission. Keep Malia Reyes alive and get her home. Peter looked at the bed, thinking over her question. "We could. I've slept on floors harder then this, so it's no big deal." He looked at her. "It's up to you."

“It’s fine,” Malia reassured him as she glanced at the floor momentarily, and slowly stopped drying her damped hair. “You’ll just sleep on top of the covers.” She added in a stern enough tone, before moving over to the right side of the bed to cautiously lift up it’s sheet. She honestly was too dog-tired to start an argument over who slept where. And sleeping on the floor was never a comfortable thing for anyone. Lifting her eyes to catch Peter’s staggered expression, she crinkled her nose and shot him a soft glare. “What? If you want to sleep on the floor, fine by me. I was just trying to be nice!” She suddenly uttered, getting into the bed and lifting the covers over her head. “Idiot.” 

Hearing the shuffle of his feet make their way over to the other side, across from where she laid, Malia adjusted the sheet onto her shoulders a bit to peek at him. Seeing him start to remove his shirt, she sat up immediately, feeling like her heart was about to burst through her chest. “What the hell are you doing!?” She shrieked loudly, hearing the panic in her own voice. She was going to kill him. Did he have no common sense? She was going to sleep right next to him, not with him! “Put your shirt back on, right now.” Oh god, what if he slept naked? Malia turned white as a sheet at the idea and threw her pillow at him. 

“Hey!” Peter moved out of the way. “My body is generally warm, okay?” 

“I don’t care what your body does!”

Both their voices carried over onto the hall of the Inn as they began to argue, alerting the few alien customers on the floor, who emerged from their rooms out of pure curiosity to look for the source of the racket. They individually held confused expressions, glancing at one another before retreating back to their own business. As the noise reached the turquoise receptionist at the front dusk, she flicked on a button, popping her gum and alerted the bickering couple. “Han Solo and Leia Organa, keep it down will ya? You're annoying me and my customers.”

Peter picked up the pillow Malia had weaponized and tossed it back onto the bed. "Geez, fine, I'll keep my shirt on! My damp, rain soaked shirt, it'll be fine." He sat down on the bed and began to undo his boots. "Might catch pneumonia, but whatever." The bed shifted as Malia rolled over so her back was to him. He put his guns next to the key card on the nightstand and flopped down on the bed, putting his hands under the back of his head. Malia groaned at the violent shaking he'd caused the bed to do and scooted herself even further away from him.

Peter stared at the ceiling, knowing full well he wasn't going to get much sleep without his music. He and silence didn't really get along. Boredom was already beginning to take over after just a few minutes. "Hey, you awake?"

Malia took a deep breath. "Yes."

Peter shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. "I wasn't, you know, trying to put the moves on you with the whole shirt thing." Malia sighed. "Not that I wouldn't, I mean. I mean, I'm not saying you're not pretty or anything, just..."

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Peter nodded. "Okay." Another few minutes passed, Peter's mind wandering far and wide as he lay in silence. In his wandering he found himself thinking about them checking in and chuckled. "Good choice of names at the check in, by the way. I always likened myself to Han Solo."

Malia giggled lightly. "What're you talking about, I'm Han Solo."

Peter blinked. "O-oh... well, I do look good in a gold bikini."

Malia laughed this time, as did Peter. "Stop, I want to sleep."

Peter sighed, thinking back over the past day or so. "Why did you get in my ship that night?"

"I dunno," Malia shrugged her shoulders lightly and turned around, half way to face him. "I guess I was just curious...," She uttered, looking up at the ceiling. It was the truth, however boring and cliche it may have seemed. "Part of me still thinks this is a dream to be honest," She added with a low chuckle as she cautiously turned herself fully around to face him. This was probably her chance to get to know him. Placing her hands under the side of her face, she awkwardly stared at him, regretting ever turning around. 

"So...what is it exactly you do out here in space?" Malia shifted herself a bit under the covers. "Besides sleep around and steal," She bluntly stated, having assumed that was what he did. The Nova Corp did mention him having a record after all. Recalling his infamous alias, she covered her face at the thought of anyone taking him serious and tried to hold back her laughter. "Star Lord." She snorted, in between giggles not noticing how close she had gotten to Peter.

Peter moved his hands to rest on his stomach and took a deep breath. "Again with the name." He turned his head to look at Malia, meeting her studious eyes as she watched him. "What's so damn funny about the name? You know what, never mind." Peter twiddled his thumbs, trying to come up with an answer to her question. A while back when he was with the Guardians he would've been able to tell her right away who he was and what he did. But now, after being alone for so long, he wasn't sure anymore. "I... wander, I guess. Do what I can to get by, have some fun when I can. Bit of good, bit of bad." He shrugged as his self loathing started to creep in. "I just be awesome." Peter put on a wavering smile, trying to keep an air of confidence, but between the silence, exhaustion and his own thoughts he wasn't sure he could keep it going. 

"Doesn't it get lonely?" Malia wondered, trying to read Peter's expressions. She could tell he wasn't fully opening up to her or being that honest. Maybe she had asked one too many personal questions? Taking a moment to think to herself, she stared at him blankly. "It's okay." She mumbled after a few minutes of silence. "You don't have to answer." She gently tapped his shoulder for comfort and quickly pulled her hand away, allowing a small yawn to creep in. She smiled then shifted the conversation to a lighter subject. 

"On Earth, there's this song called, 'Star Boy," Malia figured whatever she wanted to know about Peter would eventually come to her while being stuck in space. Someone or something would tell her along the way. She looked up at him, having his attention and sang the chorus, "I'm a motherfuckin' starboy," with attitude, before cracking up at his frazzled reaction. "It's by a popular music artist over there. Don't think you'd like most of the songs of today."

"Legend of the fall took the year like a bandit...," She continued to sing the rest of lyrics as close as she could remember them, hoping to make their awkward turn for conversation less uncomfortable. Covering another yawn that slipped in between her caroling, Malia slowly quieted down and poked Peter. "Yeah there's no more old school jams." She giggled, feeling a bit of butterflies in her stomach.

Peter nodded sadly in agreement. "Yeah, I wasn't too impressed with the music my last couple of visits." He stared at the ceiling for a few silent seconds as the exhaustion set in some more. His resolution to be there for Malia came to mind. He'd really meant it when he'd decided to befriend her, yet he'd already put up a wall and shut her down when she'd tried to get to know him. He rubbed his eyes with his hands, shaking his head. Opening up wasn't his strong suit, it made him feel... well, feelings. He looked over at Malia, meeting her eyes as she studied him. She gave him a small smile. Screw it.

Peter rolled over on his side so that he was facing her, which caught her off guard judging by the nervous look she gave him. "Okay, I'll answer your questions, but you have to answer mine. Fair?" Malia nodded, adjusting her head on the pillow. Peter took a deep breath. "What'd you want to know?"

"Well...," Malia hummed for second, feeling her face start to heat up. She averted Peter's blue eyes and put a finger to her chin as if lost in thought. "If you came from Earth, why are you here?" She asked after a few awkward minutes of silence. She was sure Peter had a family, but didn't want to pry too much into the details. "Like...Do you even miss Earth?" She gently added with an melancholy expression lodged across her face. 'She would', she thought to herself, braving her fluttering stomach to look up at Peter again. 

Deep inside she wanted to kick the awkward feelings she was having far away. It was like those cliche movies she made fun of a dozen times. The ones with the pair who unexpectedly end up sharing a bed and confess their dumb feelings for one another amidst talking. She had to admit it felt nice...the talking. They never really had a chance to do just that. But she wanted her face too stop feeling hot and stomach to stop doing its weird thing.

"Why am I here?" Peter mulled the question over for a few seconds. "Well, isn't that the question every living thing wonders?" He chuckled before sighing. "I was snatched up off of Earth when I was a kid, which is how I got up here. Tractor beam and everything, just like the movies." A small laugh escaped him, though it was tinged with sadness. He kept his eyes on Malia's, her discomfort at that amusing him slightly. "Do I miss Earth?"

He repeated her question a second time, thinking of a response. "I mean, I've lived in space longer then I did there, and I've been back a few times. But, yeah, I guess I've always kind if missed the place." Peter thought for a few moments. "But, even when I go back it's not the Earth I miss. Maybe it's changed too much, maybe I have, maybe it's both." He shrugged. "But I've built a decent life out here. Not living it now, but I built it. That counts, right?" 

Peter studied Malia, trying to come up with a question. It was proving more difficult then he'd thought. "How do you even live in New York? Every time I visit I hear about some crazy sh*t that almost turned the place into a sinkhole." He shook his head. "And they tell me I bring trouble around."

"I dunno. New York isn't for the weak." Malia shrugged, covering an unexpected yawn. "I guess," She continued slowly while closing her eyes. "I just take it in stride. Even though so much sh*t happens there...," She fluttered her eyes back open to look up at the ceiling blankly. "It's toughened me up. If I hadn't lived in that City, I think my reaction to all this would be a lot more different." Malia let out a chuckle at the thought of her being any different than how she was. New York gave her the tough exterior she had and she wouldn't trade it for the world. It was a learning experience. 

"You fall and get back up." She sternly uttered, feeling her eyes begin to droop, the exhaustion and sleep she felt while showering finally kicking in. "Peter...?" Turning over unexpectedly, she paused as her eyes connected with his. She wanted to tell him...about the man, but couldn't find any words to say suddenly. Just awkward silence played between them. She knew she would sound crazy. And in a sense she thought she was. Hearing a small, 'yeah?' escape his mouth, she shook her head. 

"Nevermind," Malia waved a dismissive hand in the air and lied, "Forgot what I was going to say." If she saw him again, which she prayed she didn’t, she’d tell him then. It wasn’t worth telling him now if he hadn’t done anything...right? She casted her eyes over Peter’s concerned face and swallowed back some spit. He probably knew she was lying. “Um, whenever we sell those coins of yours, I’m going to need some new clothes.” Trying to shift the attention away from her odd moment, she adjusted her head on the pillow and sighed heavily.

Peter could tell she wasn't telling him something, but decided not to push it. He figured she'd tell him if it was important. Instead he simply nodded in agreement her comment on getting new clothes. "First thing. We'll get you the most bitchin' space clothes they got."

Malia raised her brow. "You don't have to say space before everything."

She'd deepened her voice as she'd said it, attempting to imitate Peter. He gave her a smirk. "Yeah, but... shut up." Peter yawned, neglecting to cover his mouth which earned him a wrinkled nose from Malia. He had to admit, it was nice just having someone around again. He'd honestly never noticed how much he'd missed just talking to someone, even if it was the uncomfortable topic of himself. It got quiet between them again, but the silence was interrupted by the sound of what Peter guessed was the bed in the next room repeatedly hitting the wall. God, he needed his music. That noise was more uncomfortable then the conversation had been, so Peter tried to continue it. "So, anything else you wanted to know about the illustrious Star-Lord?"

Malia tried to contain herself from laughing at the awkward bagging that collide with their bedroom wall by covering her mouth and avoiding Peter’s face expression. It now had gotten extremely embarrassing. She could feel her face start to heat up and a few giggles escape through her fingers as the noise only got louder, with moans and inappropriate slurs. She closed her eyes and suddenly burst out into laughter. At least her giggles would drown out some of the noise. Hearing Peter start to chuckle, she looked at him in amusement, both their snickering lessening the odd situation they were currently in. 

She wiped a tear from her eye when it was all over and pulled the covers over her head. “No. I have no more questions,” She finally answered with a small smile. “Star-Lord.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes at his silly alias. Maybe she should think of one for herself, she thought for a moment, before slowly closing her eyes and letting out a yawn. The noise from room next door seemed to have quieted down to muffled grunts and light banging. Malia allowed sleep to drift her off into unconsciousness. “Goodnight Peter.” She mumbled with a smile, hoping their odd time together continued.

* * *

_**Meanwhile...** _

At a Nova Base, a young male cadet quickly walked down the white halls with a folder gripped tightly in his hands. The clanking of his boots against the pristine floor echoed off the walls as he picked up in pace. Sweat dripped from the side of his face, running down his jawline as two fellow Nova Cadets moved from their post in front a large door to let him in. He gulped, visibly shaken and entered with the mustered up courage.

Inside sat Wayne, behind a filled desk of papers eating a meal. The Cadet saluted as taught and raised the folder he kept. "Sir, I've retrieved the information asked of!" He announced to his Commander. "W-word has also been sent of a reward for our two escapees." He stood in place as Wayne lifted one his hand for the document to be given

"Any possible leads?" Wayne asked dryly, placing the folder on top of a pile. He continued to eat his food, never once leaving his gaze off his plate. 

"I-I'm afraid not, Sir. We've gotten, however, a few decent responses from some Bounty Hunters." The Cadet answered timidly, shifting from one foot to another. 

Wayne took a bite out of his stale bread, before dismissing the Nova Cadet from his office. "Useless. All useless." He grumbled under his breath, taking the folder from it's place. He ripped it open, chewing the last piece of his bread and took out it's content; papers. 

Pictures of Malia on Earth were scattered on top of his desk with clipped information and notes attached to each. He picked up a photograph of her and stared at it as a beeping sound was heard and a hologram was casted across the room unexpectedly, causing him to stand to his feet. 

"Good Evening, Mister Wayne." 

_**"Mister Knife..."** _


	9. Chapter 9

Peter stared at the ceiling, having lost track of time and his thoughts. Sleep had not graced him with it's presence as he'd predicted it wouldn't. He'd taken the time to form a plan for tomorrow, that plan being sell those damn coins... that's it. He wasn't big on complicated plans, more just vague concepts. And this vague concept was get money, get stuff back, get Malia home and... get a drink maybe? He glanced at Malia who slept with her back to him. She'd fallen asleep almost immediately after they'd stopped talking... lucky. He groaned as boredom continued to engulf him, earning him a kick from Malia. Even in her sleep she managed to assault him.

Peter rubbed his eyes, every noise standing out in the dark silence. The checkout girl's loud voice, occasional passers by, a ship at one point all assaulted Peter's ears. Heavy footsteps sounded from outside the room, making Peter's sleeplessness even more unpleasant. The steps grew louder with each footfall, the sound echoing through the hall outside. He momentarily considered yelling at whoever was stomping around, but didn't much feel like taking a beating from Malia. She seemed like she wouldn't be a morning person. He instead folded his thin pillow around his head in an attempt to block out the sound. It didn't help in the least as they only grew louder. Just as the steps were at their loudest and Peter thought he might lose it, they stopped.

Peter furrowed his brow and removed the pillow from his head. He propped himself up with his elbows, casting a glance at the door. A shadow was blocking the light from the other side of the door. Peter sat up fully, glancing at his guns on the nightstand next to Malia. He cursed under his breath before trying to carefully reach over the sleeping girl. She stirred as the bed shifted under him. A sound from outside the door made him freeze, his chest tightening. It was the unmistakable sound if a gun being cocked. "Sh*t"

Peter grabbed Malia around the waist and pulled her with him as he rolled off of the bed, tumbling to the floor on his side. No sooner then they'd hit the floor, a barrage of bullets tore through the door. The gun fire drowned out any and all other sounds as debris and mattress stuffing rained down around the pair. After a few chaotic seconds, the assault halted. There was a few seconds if silence as Peter gathered his senses before a voice quietly cursed from outside what was left of the door. "Wait, were they supposed to be caught alive?" A couple more seconds and the voice called through the door. "Hey... y'all dead?"

"Wha?" Malia fluttered her eyes open, brows furrowing in confusion as the room around her became clear again. She slowly blinked away the sleep and noticed she was no longer on the bed, but on the floor with a frazzled Peter. "What the?" She smacked his hand away from her waist and turned her head toward him, completely lost with what was happening. As she opened her mouth to ask him a list of questions, he slapped his hand over it and pointed at the door. Her eyes followed his finger, weaving underneath the bed to see a litter of bullets and misshapen door. 

Was it Wayne? She thought immediately, feeling her heart start to race. Looking back at Peter, Malia took his hand from her mouth and fixed herself into a crawling position. "The Novas kill fugitives?" She whispered frantically, shaking the last bit of sleep she had away. There went her chance for a peaceful night's rest. All she wanted was some sleep! Peeking underneath the bed for signs of movement, she gulped. "What are we going to do?" 

The front door was there only way out. Going out the window however was their second best choice, but she didn't feel like thinking about going splat on the concrete ground of the district below. They were on the third floor! Upon hearing the sound of footsteps, Malia drew her attention away from her thoughts and to the silhouette of the man outside their room. "We gotta go into the bathroom!" She plainly ordered, her eyes darting from and to the open door of the unlit washroom. She hoped that bought them some time.

"Okay." She took in a deep breath, glanced over at the door and scurried across the room and into the bathroom's comfort. Peter lunged for his guns as Malia frantically gestured him to hurry up and closed the door behind him once he was in the same space as her. Another click was heard from the outside, followed by a loud thump of the front door being kicked open. Malia held herself together. She didn't want to die in a bathroom of all places. "Do something, Star-Lord!"

Peter smirked as he shattered the window with one of his quad blasters. "Oh, 'now' the name's not funny."

Malia ran to the window and looked out at the district thirty feet below. "What are we doing?!"

Peter tossed his satchel out the window, making sure to see where it landed before kneeling down and adjusting his boots jet attachments. He stood back up as their pursuer crashed into the bathroom door, making it shake violently. "Open on up! I ain't gonna kill you... now."

Peter grabbed Malia, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Hold on to me!"

Malia looked at him with a skeptical look, glancing at the door before nodding. "Okay."

She wrapped her arms around Peter as he tapped his boot jets. They were lifted up off of the ground a few inches, about all they'd get with the jets. They weren't made for sustained flight, but they should at least slow their fall enough so they didn't die. There was another bang on the door followed by a crack prompting himself and Malia to go through the window. Immediately they started falling, the jets only slowing them a bit. Malia screamed as they plummeted towards a vendor's tent. Just before they crashed through the top of the shelter the jets lit the material on fire. Peter held Malia tightly as they tore through the flaming cloth, the jets slowing them as they crashed through the vendor's table. 

The air rushed out of Peter's lungs as he hit the ground, further driven down as Malia landed in top of him. Malia rolled off of him, holding her stomach as he slowly sat up. He tried to fill his lungs back up as he got to his feet, pulling Malia up with him. "Are... you okay?"

Malia nodded, looking dazed. "Yeah, yeah."

The alien vendor started yelling at them, waving his arms frantically as he did. Peter ignored him as he scooped up his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. The alien shoved the still dazed Malia, earning him a look down the barrel of one of Peter's guns. The alien held up his hands in surrender, taking brisk steps backwards as he did. He put a hand on Malia's shoulder. "Let's get going."

Malia nodded, looking at Peter. She paused as her eyes looked past him. "Peter!"

Peter whipped around, guns raised. A blue skinned man faced him, his own pair of guns trained on Peter and Malia. The man's vibrant red hair was formed into a pompadour that protruded a good few inches from his head. Thick mutton chops adorned either side of his face. His fur coat blew in the night breeze, a smug grin crossing his face. "There y'all are." He had an accent that reminded Peter of some of the farmers that'd lived near him back on earth. "Not so tough a hunt for someone so infamous," His eyes wandered to Malia. "and his pretty little plus one."

“What do you want?” Malia managed to utter as she took a cautious step back to hide behind Peter, causing the strange blue alien individual to peek around for her. ‘Who was this guy?’ She thought to herself, grabbing onto Peter’s arm for comfort. She didn’t have a weapon, her barbecue fork long forgotten somewhere and wasn’t necessary trying to get hit in the unfortunate chance shots were fired. This guy didn’t look like he was with the Nova Corp, so she didn’t understand why exactly he was after them until she remembered the ‘wanted,’ billboard and everything clicked, causing her to feel an air of anxiety start to rise. People were now going to be hunting them down for whatever reward was put out. And they still hadn’t even sold their coins!

“Uh—,” She heard the Bounty Hunter drawl out as if he were confused with what to say. He used his gun to scratch the side of his head and hum for what Malia assumed were words and continued to, “Uh,” while keeping his eyes on them. Using that moment to duck further behind Peter’s silhouette, she craned her neck around in search for any possible escape routes and noticed the crowds starting to form around them, vendors looking on while bystanders huddled up in groups chattering about their unexpected Wild Wild West-esque stand about. She wished at this very moment she had telepathy to tell Peter secretly to run, but she’d deal with doing it the old fashion way. 

She tugged on his arm slowly, and he threw her a quick skeptical glance, before moving his attention to and from the Bounty before he caught on. Malia mouthed silently, “Run,” at the count of, “3” with her fingers and took in a deep breath before starting the countdown. For whatever reason their predator was giving them the time to haul out of there and she wasn’t sure if it was because he was anticipating it or not. He didn’t actually seem like a competent enough guy to begin with. ‘But, just in case,” She thought to herself as she reached for one of Peter’s guns and shot straight at the Bounty Hunter on the count of three. He jumped backward, still lost and proceeded to open fire.

Malia pulled onto Peter frantically, her hands tightly gripped around the fabric of his coat and lunged herself into the crowd of bystanders to sprint down the district streets. She could’ve sworn, amidst the pushing and ‘get out the ways,’ Peter shouted their attacker had yelled something like, ‘sorry?’ but she wasn’t quite sure. If he had, he was either really bad at his job, crazy or plain stupid. Holding onto Peter’s hand for dear live, Malia felt as if their entire surroundings was spinning all around her. She looked to the left then the right, keeping an eye out for their Bounty Hunter and tried to catch her breath. 

“What now?” She hissed between breaths. “We have no ship or money!” She added in frustration, turning around to see a stampede of people running toward their direction in a panic. A random barrage of gunfire could be heard not soon after. That confirmed he was crazy. Trying to hold Peter’s hand as best she could amidst the sea of creatures, pushing and shoving, Malia felt something hit her shoulder causing her to let go and stumble over in pain. She put pressure on the spot whatever it was hit her then looked at her hand to see blood. One of the bullets had hit her. Feeling nauseated all of a sudden, she allowed the crowd to carry her. 

All she could remember last was Peter’s voice calling out to her as she lost complete consciousness.

* * *

The crowd moved as one entity around Peter, pulling him with it as it fled from the chaos. Malia had let go of his hand and disappeared into the mass of bodies. Peter shoved and pushed, trying to keep in one place long enough to search for her, but it was no use. "Malia!" The sound of gunfire was growing closer, driving the crowd into even more of a panic. This Kree was either dangerously nihilistic or an idiot. Peter was nearly knocked off of his feet by a passing alien. "F*ck this." He raised one of his guns and fired two fiery shots into the air, the crowd giving him a wide berth in response.

Peter started to search for his missing partner, mentally berating her for firing at their pursuer in the first place. He'd thought '3' meant bolt, not shoot the guy. The Kree was getting closer, his taunts carrying through the air. Peter pressed further into the crowd, brandishing his guns to keep from getting swarmed again. He'd have to have a talk with Malia about not touching his guns, let alone using them to shoot at a bounty hunter dual wielding machine guns. His foot slipped on something, a curse escaping his lips in response. He glanced down for a moment as he regained his footing, his eyes immediately drawn to the blood he'd slipped in. A moment later he saw the source of the blood and his heart stopped. 

Malia lay at his feet, eyes closed and completely still. A small pool of blood had formed at her side. His blood froze in his veins as his breath caught in his throat. The thoughts in his head turned to every loss, every goodbye as he dropped to his knees next to Malia. He sat one of his guns down and carefully put the free hand under her head. "Malia?" She didn't answer. Peter searched the passing crowd desperately, hoping for help that he knew wouldn't come. He shook his head, refusing to accept it as he gingerly lifted her head.

"There y'all are."

Peter lifted the gun he still held and trained it on the Kree. Their pursuer looked at Malia, his eyes going wide. "Oh, geez. Is she dead?"

Peter glared at the man. "You better hope not."

The hunter lifted his guns, cocking his head. "Now, don't go and do anything foolish."

Peter's grip on the gun tightened, his hand aching from the tension. "I do foolish well."

Just as Peter was about to pull the trigger, the Kree dropped his guns and cried out in pain. He fell forward, slamming into the hard ground with a crack. A short Nova cadet stood in his pace, twirling a stun baton. Tochi beamed at Peter, her smile disappearing as she saw Malia. Tochi rushed forward and crouched next to Peter. Her fingers rushed to Malia's throat. "She's alive. Pick her up, we need to get out of the open."

Tochi made sure the coast was clear, before heading over to the unconscious Kree and tying him to the nearest post she could find -- all while telling Peter to head North of the District to find his ship. Knowing the ins and outs of the base, escape had been a snap. From there she hopped onto his ship, luckily picking the right Planet that seemed more his speed. Her reading up on his files hadn't been for nothing.

"See ya!" She darted away from the Bounty Hunter and ducked into a narrow alley to avoid the many wandering eyes of Rajak to take the long way toward the ship. Catching her breath as soon as she caught sight of Peter, Tochi removed her helmet, her expression becoming solemn again. She didn't know they were being hunted at the Nova's expense.

"Do you have a medbay?" She asked with a lopsided smile. But as soon as her eyes flicked over to Malia and it slowly was replaced with a flat line. "Don't worry." She uttered, feeling the need to be optimistic for Peter. "She'll be fine! I know it." Watching him shake off the worry from his face, Tochi helped her legendary Star Lord bring in Malia. 

Once inside, in the security of the ship, she began to roll up her sleeves as Peter led her to what seemed like a medbay. She gave him a funny look and he sighed heavily, "It's all we got." Before laying Malia on a tabletop carefully.

They were in a weaponry area, but she brushed it off and prepared her mind for any wounds she needed to close. "I'll need hot water and any tools small enough to..." She watched Peter run off at mid-sentence, a few minutes coming back with what she asked for. He stood by her side, ready to help her if needed and she blushed, feeling a sudden rush of emotion as he handed her a knife, their hands briefly touching. "Thanks," She managed to get out, placing back her attention toward Malia who lay still unconscious. "Now lets take a look," She whispered. 

Ripping part of Malia's stolen Nova uniform with nervous hands, Tochi examined the shoulder wound. She wiped away the blood and took a closer look at where the bullet had hit her. She furrowed her brows, earning the same reaction from Peter. "What?" He asked, glancing between the petite cadet and Malia's shoulder, not getting what she was seeing. 

Tochi locked her blue eyes with his. "There's no bullet inside." She announced, double checking the inside of the wound. "Looks like it went right through the skin..." Her lips pressed together as she slowly began to dab away and close the hole. As she did, she shook her head, a bit confused. "She should be awake." Tochi looked at Peter once again. "I mean, the hit wasn't that lethal and while she could've fainted from sheer shock..." 

She finished closing up the wound. "I think its odd she's this unconscious." 

* * *

Everything was black. Fluttering her eyes open to see nothing but darkness around her, Malia knew she was back in that place again. The place she couldn’t quite explain. But, it was different. Trying to recall the last events before blacking out, she stood up from the floor that was wet? She no longer was in the district. There were no vendors, passersby or noise. In front of her just laid pure empty space. “Hello?” She called out, wincing from the pain that shot from her right shoulder as she moved. She remembered now; the Bounty Hunter had shot her. Putting pressure on her wound, she looked around, confused on what to do. She didn’t know how to get out and the isolated feeling was starting to cripple her. 

Slowly walking, aimlessly throughout the endless area she was in, Malia thought about her decision not to tell Peter. She should’ve as here she was again without a clue in the world to what was happening to her. Maybe she had touched something in his ship she shouldn’t have and…? Hearing a low muffled voice come from the distant, she stopped in her thoughts and turned in it’s direction. There were always voices, she noticed. Heading toward it, instead of away, they started to become less muffled. Soon enough, the voices having a bodies to go with them.

Not about a few feet away from where she stood, was Wayne and another figure with their back faced to her. Still the room or wherever she was in stayed the same; black — the only color admitted being from her body, his and the unknown figure. Malia covered her mouth and listened in to the conversation. Could they see her as she could them? Deciding it was best she stood where she was, she noticed Wayne’s less than cocky demeanor and posture and furrowed her brows. Was the unknown man his superior? No! Taking a good look at the individual before him, she recognized the brown trench coat. It was the Destiny guy. What was she prying into?

_ “Have you located Quill yet?”  _ His voice rang, echoing loudly across the empty space.

Wayne took a moment to answer.  _ “He is being tracked down as we speak, your majesty.”  _

_ “And the girl?”  _ He asked sternly.

_“I am forwarding all the information we’ve gathered on her. But, if I may be frank, sir…?”_ Wayne waited for approval and upon receiving a firm nod, accompanied by a beckoning wave, he continued. _“I don’t fully understand the interest this earth girl carries. I assure you once we capture Quill, we will dispose of her and the relic would be as good as ours.”_ He said as he smoothed back a strand of hair from his face, looking visibly shaken by his own words.

Silence followed by a harsh thud sound that was heard after, making Malia unexpectedly jump. She hadn’t noticed from where she stood, but the stranger with no name held a cain in between his hands. One with a red sphere attached to it’s helm. She had guessed right before. He was royalty. 

_“Do what you are asked of, Commander Wayne and remember clearly, that if you disobey my direct orders, I will obliterate you from the Galaxy.”_ He sternly said without flattering. _"The girl is not your concern. Find Quill!"_

With that, his figure disappeared from sight, catching Malia off guard. He was a hologram! She tried to wrap her head around everything she just heard before drawing her attention back to Wayne, who stood in his position with gripped fists. He turned to pace back and forth for a few minutes then suddenly lifted his desk off from its place and tossed across the room. His figure then slowly began to fade, it becoming a blank space again.

_"What the hell?"_ Malia blinked her eyes and slowly approached the area they were in, feeling around with her hands for any invisible objects which there were none of. "Hello?" She called out for what seemed like the dozen time as she stood there, arms folded around herself. What now? What was she going to do now!? Screaming at herself for any possible answers, she felt her blood run icy cold when she turned to face the one man she didn't want to see ever again; the man she kept meeting in this place. 

Letting out a blood curdling scream, that jolted her straight awake, Malia continued to shriek with the familiar faces of Peter and Tochi coming into focus.

Peter put his hand on Malia's shoulder as she continued to scream bloody murder. "Hey! It's okay, you're good." Malia's hand shot up and grabbed his own, her grip vice-like as her wide eyes darted around the room. Peter winced as her fingernails dug into his hand deep enough to draw blood. "Malia, calm down."

Tochi bent down so that she was at eye level with Malia and put a hand on her forehead. "Hey, hey." She started to lightly stroke her hair. "It's okay." After a few seconds the screaming subsided and Malia's breathing began to slow down. "There ya go." 

Malia loosened her grip on Peter's hand, her eyes now moving between he and Tochi. She slowly sat up with Tochi's hand on her back to keep her steady. "Where am I?"

Relief washed over Peter at the question, though his concern was far from gone. He gave her a small smile as he wiped the blood from his hand. "We're back on my ship, thanks to Tochi here."

Tochi smiled sheepishly. "Don't mention it." She patted Malia's back, being careful to avoid her wound.

Malia looked around with confusion on her face before her eyes settled on some of her blood that had dripped onto the floor. "Is that... mine?" Her eyes shot to Peter. "Am I okay?"

Peter nodded. "Sure are. You took that bullet like a champ."

Tochi cleared her throat. "You seem to be okay, but it wouldn't hurt to rest for a bit."

Malia started to lay back as Tochi gently pushed on her good shoulder. "If you say so."

Tochi smiled. "I do." She looked at Peter. "What do you have as far as medicines go?"

Peter scratched at his chin. "Well, I've got booze unless those Nova pricks took that too." He glanced at Tochi nervously. "Present company excluded."

Tochi gave a small laugh. "We'll look around." She looked back at Malia, smiling warmly. "You're gonna be fine."

Peter stepped out into the hall with Tochi following, glancing back at Malia. "Thanks, Tochi." He looked around at his ship, glad to be back on the closest thing he had to home. "Thanks for everything."

Tochi smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of her head. "It's nothing." She looked up from the floor to meet Peter's eyes. "Listen, your friend in there," Her head nodded towards the door. "as far as I can tell she's fine physically, but I've never seen anything like that. It could've just been shock, but she was terrified. I don't know, it just seemed wrong."

Peter looked at the open door and shrugged. "I don't know, but she's okay and that's what matters." He sighed, not realizing how much tension he'd built up in that short amount of time. Sh*t like this was exactly why he had to get Malia home. Things tended to go wrong around him, and he couldn't afford to lose anyone else. "It's good to have you back, Tochi, but why help us? Hell, how'd you get out of that base?"

Tochi waved her hand dismissively. "That base ain't nothing, so getting out was a breeze. As for why?" She shrugged. "Well, I owe you." Her eyes met his again. "Do you remember?"

Peter furrowed his brow. "Sure, that Nova academy that almost got leveled."

Tochi nodded. "Yep. You and your team saved a lot of lives that day, me and my friends included. It was you that pulled me out of the wreckage. Then you guys stuck around and hung out with all the cadets, and we drank and you and I," She cleared her throat. "never mind. Point is, you needed help and after all the good you've done it's the least I could do."

Peter chuckled, not used to the good he'd done being brought up. "You're taking some big risks just to pay me back."

She shrugged. "My boss sucked anyway. Besides, you owe me a date."

"Jesus, get a room you two."

The pair looked at Malia, who had ventured into the hall using the wall for support. 

* * *

Time flew by, and before Malia knew it, whatever substituted for the sun out there had slowly started to set. Lounging around the ship had done her little to no good really, the image of him never leaving her mind among the pieces of the conversation she'd overheard. She couldn’t quite connect the dots as to why she was important like Wayne mentioned, but wanted to know why. The thought of asking Tochi briefly crossed her mind as she walked up to a large circular window that overlooked the open plain. She patted the cold metal, and upon seeing enough room for her to sit and pressed her legs to chest, she slowly sat down. 

She could still hear the muffled chatter between Peter and Tochi from the deck below, but not too much to pry into their conversation. It was plainly obvious Tochi was head over heels for Peter, so she didn’t want to intrude or make things awkward, already deciding she’d take off whenever they wanted to start their actual date. Placing her head against the window glass, Malia felt the sudden urge to cry, but didn’t. Not now. She stared off at the twinkling stars that littered the dark sky and closed her eyes, took a deep breath to relax and opened them back up.

“I don’t want to die.” She strangely mumbled out loud as she picked a star to focus on. A sudden eruption of giggles made her turn her head however to look at the pit leading to the lower half of the ship. It certainly wasn’t the best time for her to go down there that was for sure. Lifting herself up to her feet, Malia walked toward the narrow corridor. She needed something to distract her. Anything from her clouding thoughts. Curiously peeking into each room that seemed to have been lived in, she poked around — soon forgetting about Peter, Tochi and the man. 

“What is this?” She picked up an object with dozens of wires from it’s sockets sticking out and examined it. Shaped in the form of a ball, she juggled it between her hands. Nothing. No, lighting up or making any sort of noise. She put back where she found it. She noticed a lot of unfinished gadgets. She certainly knew they didn’t belong to Peter. He didn’t look like an inventor... or a smart enough one either. She giggled at her own thought as she made her way to another room. This time, she found very odd weaponry and clothes! Female ones at that. 

“Figures,” Malia rolled her eyes, looking through the closet and pulling out what seemed like…? She didn’t know what. All she did know was, they probably wouldn’t fit her petite stature. “Oh well. Next!” She dove into the few remaining rooms left in the hall. She hesitated in entering the last one, knowing it belonged to Peter. She looked over her shoulder and paused momentarily. Once she could hear an inkling of voices from below, she carefully went inside to immediately regret it as she took in the mess. Women actually slept in here with him?

His room was an actual pigsty. Articles of clothing were flung everywhere, left over food and lots of empty alcohol bottles stashed in the corner. “Unbelievable.” She sighed, running a hand down her face. Picking up a shirt from the floor, Malia folded it and placed it on the unmade bed. She did want something to do. Opting for cleaning his room, she tied up her hair and began to do so. Stopping once in awhile from the small pain in her shoulder, she arranged his mixtapes and dusted. As she did, her eyes caught on the wall a picture of a boy and his mom, stuck to a thumbtack. 

“So that's him and his mom.” She smiled, pointing gingerly at the small ten year old boy who looked immensely happy beside a youthful appearing woman with long hair. She was glad she hadn’t asked about his family back at the Motel. If he kept this, that meant... her eyes widen in horror as the room around her began to fade in and out. “No!” She shrieked, taking a staggering step back. She slapped her hand over her mouth, feeling tears start to pour from her eyes. “Please no. Not again. Leave me alone!” She backed herself into the corner of Peter’s room. 

“But, it was you who invaded my privacy first.” A menacing voice whispered, as a flashing image of the man from before came in and out, like a bad signal of sorts of him heading toward her with his hand extended out. Malia panicked, breathing erratic and crawled out of the room, crying hysterically. She used the wall as comfort to lead her to the bathroom and locked herself in to muffle in her cries. Her heart pounded fiercely against her chest as she sank down the wall and cried into her hands. She needed to tell Peter. 

* * *

Peter poked his head up into the upper deck, peering around with furrowed brow. "Malia?" He climbed the rest of the way up, rubbing the back of his head as he continued to scan the room. "You okay? I thought I heard you yell or something." Peter stepped into the main hall, Malia's absence and silence fueling his growing concern. He peered into each room he passed, finding them just as empty as they'd always been these past few months. Seek his room's door open made him pause momentarily before peeking inside. "What in the... did she clean my room?"

The thought of her snooping through his things was uncomfortable. His cheeks flushed as a thought crossed his mind. "If you saw what's under my mattress, those aren't mine." He closed his door, taking note to put a lock on it or something. "Malia?" Peter tried the bathroom door only to find it locked. He knocked lightly. "Hey, you okay? We need to have a chat about privacy and, well, stay the hell out of my room." She didn't answer, but he could hear her inside. "Um, is this a lady thing? Should I get Tochi?"

"I-I...," Malia kept her hand held over her mouth, hearing how frail her voice sounded and stopped from further answering. She tried to calm her breathing, little by little, before wiping the tears away from her face in attempt to hide her frazzled state from Peter. She was sure he would notice regardless she had been bawling her eyes out from her flushed out face and puffiness. But, she still had to try. "No." She answered after a few minutes of awkward silence managed to firmly say. She didn't want to talk to Tochi. In this state, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to speak to him. 

"I didn't...look under your bed." Malia slowly stood to her feet, with furrowed brows. "But thanks for telling me what's under there." She wrinkled her nose at the idea of finding unmentionables items under his bed and placed her hand besides the switch near the door. "Look Peter...," She mumbled, staring at her feet. Should she tell him? "I-I have something to tell you..." Her fingers lowered the lock for the door to automatically slide open. She didn't know anymore.

Peter took one look at Malia and knew she was far from okay. He also knew he was way out of his depth in situations like this. As a matter of fact, he'd go out of his way to avoid a situation like this. Malia didn't meet his eyes, instead keeping them on anything but him. Peter rubbed the back of his head, searching for something to say. "You... you wanted to tell me something?"

Malia rubbed her arm before slowly shaking her head. Peter closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as he pieced together his next words. "Listen, I'm a bit out of practice when it comes to the whole... whatever this is." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, certain he was going to sound like an idiot. "I know the past couple of days haven't exactly been a walk in the park for you, what with the whole being taken into space, arrested, being shot and all. And, yeah, I'm not exactly the best person to get stuck with, but you are stuck with me. Until I get you home, we're partners, so you can tell me what's up." He shrugged. "That and I'd like to know if you're having a mental breakdown and are going to stab me in my sleep."

"Peter...," Malia looked up at him, shocked by his words that cut deeply through the heavy doubt she held. He was right. And she internally agreed, but all the voices in her head made the words she wanted to say difficult. What if she put him in danger? Or...worse. She already had by getting involved in whatever all this was. And she didn't want to add more to that plate, but she needed to tell him before it became too late. Lifting her attention from the floor and back to him again, Malia sighed as Tochi's voice unexpectedly blared from the ground level below. 

"Hey, guys! I'm going to the market, okay?" She announced. "Going to make my special three meat soup." Movement soon was heard after her interruption, followed by the opening of the Storage lift and it's closing. 'How convenient,' Malia thought to herself as she maneuvered around Peter to step out into the hall. 

She glimpsed very briefly at his room, feeling a wave of anxiety rise and turned away with a snap. "I have to tell you." She said rather skeptically. "When I got lost, remember? I met this man." She started to carefully explain, keeping her eyes locked to the floor. "He told me, I was way out of...where I was suppose to be like I had walked miles when I didn't!" She paused to glance at Peter who surprisingly giving her his full attention and nodded slowly for her to continue. "He pointed me in the right direction, disappeared and I found you again. In the district I saw him again in the crowds and when I was shot," Malia took in a deep breath, feeling tears start to form in the corner of her eyes. 

"And now..." She wiped them away before they could fall and tried to remain relatively calm as she looked for her words again. "He came again. In your room. It's like he can track me or I can summon him. I just don't know!" She blurted all at once, using her hands for dramatic gestures. It really felt good letting all that bottled up inside out. All she hoped was Peter believed her. She sounded crazy and she herself thought she was. "I know." She mumbled, seeing his blank expression once she was done.

Peter stared at Malia blankly for more then a few seconds before slowly nodding. How was he supposed to even begin to make sense of what she'd just told him? All he could do was silently nod with his mouth slightly agape and eyebrow raised. He glanced around, wondering if her stranger was real. After a few more seconds of silence he looked at Malia, gathering his thoughts together. "Huh."

Malia blinked. "Huh?"

Peter nodded in agreement. "Huh. Malia, I'm going to be honest with you. I have no idea what to make of any of that."\

Malia nodded, looking crestfallen. "I... I probably wouldn't believe me either."

Peter held up a hand. "I never said I didn't believe you, just that I didn't know what to think." It'd sounded more then a little crazy, but he'd seen enough crazy in his life that his skepticism almost nonexistent. Whatever she'd seen was obviously real enough to her. It was perfectly possible that she'd cracked, which he sincerely hoped wasn't the case. He sighed deeply. "I don't know how I can help you, Malia. Just tell me if it happens again, I guess." He sighed. "Anything else I should know?"

Malia thought over his question, nervously wringing out her hands and averted his gaze. "Yes?" She uttered as if she were asking him a question. "Wayne was also there...," She barely let out in a whisper, her brown eyes finding themselves on his face again. It was best she told him everything. Put everything on the table. "He knew whoever this man was and seemed to be afraid of him." 

She licked her chapped lips before continuing to tell Peter what she overheard while she was in that unknown place. He listened intently, either that or he'd tuned out a while ago. But, besides the wanting him captured to find some sort of relic revelation, Peter didn't seem all that shocked by it. "I'm sure it'll be fine." He shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it now, right?"

"Thanks," Malia took little to no comfort in his careless attitude toward the remaining part of her story and simply walked away from him with a frustrated groan. She should've known he'd make light of the situation. "Idiot." She hissed under her breath as the sound of the storage hatch opening alerted them of Tochi's return. She threw Peter a lingering glare as she climbed down toward the lower level and greeted the Nova Cadet. "Need any help?" She asked, wanting to keep herself busy for a while. 

"Of course!" The blond smiled, sharing some of the heavy market bags she carried with her, before looking at the ladder to catch Peter's backside as he made his way down. Malia rolled her eyes at Tochi's hypnotized state, allowing herself to laugh a bit and took the bags into the small kitchen area the ship had. She still couldn't believe Peter was that oblivious to the fact. "Idiot," She mumbled, setting the items Tochi bought out on the table. She stared at some of the strange packaging while she did and caught sight of the idiot himself beside her. 

"May I help you?" She turned fully to give him her attention as she slammed a can down for emphasis.

Tochi blankly stared between the two of them with knitted brows and emptied out her own bag, cautiously. "Did I miss something, while I was outside?" She wondered out loud with a nervous giggle, getting nothing but silence between the pair.

Peter's resolution to befriend Malia went to the back of his mind as annoyance took over. He'd really tried for two days to not give her a piece of his mind out of  his relating to her plight, but he'd reached his low threshold of annoyance. "Oh, nothing much, just one of Malia's signature 'I'm going to hate Peter for no reason' moments."

Tochi looked between the two of them before silently going back to her cooking. Malia looked at Peter with combination of surprise and anger. "Excuse me?"

Peter smirked. "I didn't stutter. I get it, you're angry and sh*t, but taking it out on me, the sucker trying to get you home, ain't gonna get you there any faster." He folded his arms across his chest. "And it's not my fault you're going space crazy."

"So you didn't believe me!?" Malia felt her blood start to boil as she stood in from of Peter, ready to hit him with one of the cans. For a minute there she was starting to get used to the idea of him. Now she didn't know what to think. "You're a big giant ass, you know that? This isn't my fault. It's yours!" She pointed a finger at him and poked him across the chest, trying her hardest not to slap him. "Mister Star-Dumb. You could've just taken me home!" 

Peter placed a hand over his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. "For the millionth time, I couldn't turn the damn ship around!" He slowly explained, raising his tone and hands up for emphasis. He knew he wasn't going to win this argument, but was sure as hell going to try. Locking his eyes with Tochi, who merely looked on as she stirred the sauce she made, Peter groaned when Malia continued.

"I should've never saved you from the Nova Corps! Here I was worried about your stupid life...," She started push him roughly back. "Yes I'm angry. Okay? Deal with it. I have the right to be." She slapped him hard against his chest before storming off toward the ladder, having had enough of Peter for one day. She shook her head, thinking how stupid she was for believing he wasn't so bad. "Maybe if you acted more like a man then a man-child I'd be nicer! Ever think of that?" 

Tochi couldn't help but to giggle at the Earth Girl's comment, turning around to hide her smiling face from the duo. She threw in the chunks of meat she had cut into the large pot and turned to catch Peter's retreating form stalking away behind Malia. She took a small step back, arching her neck. "Um, Dinner will be ready soon! Don't go too far."


	10. Chapter 10 pt. 1

Peter followed Malia as she stormed through the ship, both of their tempers flaring. "Don't turn this around on me. I've done nothing but try to help you get the hell home and all you've done is give me crap for it!"

Malia shook her head. "Bullsh*t! We could've gone in the Nova ship, but you had to sell your precious contraband on this... backwater hell scape of a planet!"

Peter threw up his hands. "We needed supplies!"

Malia stepped into the cockpit, searching for something. "Booze isn't a necessity!"

Peter glared at her as she briskly walked around the room. "It is when I'm dealing with you!"

Malia snatched up his jacket, putting it on over her I'll fitting Nova uniform and pushed her way past him. "I doubt I'm what got you drinking."

Peter looked up at the ceiling and groaned as he followed after her. "And I never said I didn't believe you about that sh*t you're seeing, just that you're the only one seeing it."

Malia glared over her shoulder at him. "You don't think I know that?!" She turned all the way around to face him. "I don't know what is going on. And all I wanted was some help, someone to talk to, and you blew it off." 

Peter watched as she wiped her eyes before she turned away again. "I didn't blow it off, I just didn't know what to think." Malia wordlessly descended the ladder back down, with Peter following behind. "What was I supposed to do?"

Malia stepped passed Tochi who was still silently cooking and grabbed Peter's satchel. "I'd have taken anything."

Peter held up a hand as she started stormed towards the cargo door. "What are you doing?"

Malia pressed the button beside the door and it began to open horizontally. The cool night air blew inside, making her hair dance wildly. "What'd you care?"

Peter walked up to her, nodding at his satchel. "I don't, but you've got my stuff."

Malia stared at him for a few seconds. "I wish I'd never met you."

With that she turned and stepped out into the night. Peter stood on the ramp, feeling like an idiot for having been hurt by her statement. "Yeah, I know the feeling. Of all the roofs in all the world I had to land on the one belonging to the biggest pain in the ass that the planet earth ever produced! And now she's stealing my sh*t!"

Peter stood, watching Malia walk off and letting his anger boil when heard Tochi clear her throat behind him. "Um, soup's done?"

Tochi blinked and looked on as Malia’s figure slowly disappeared off into the distance. She raised a finger quickly in mid air, ready to yell for her to ‘come back,’ but changed her mind once she noticed Peter’s seething demeanor. “Maybe it’s best you both cool off.” She uttered cautiously, giving his arm a light squeeze before turning back around toward her boiling pot. She set out two tattered bowls across the table and reached for the ladle as Peter sat down. “You know, I kinda find it a bit amusing…,” Tochi admitted, pouring some soup into his dish. “You and Malia.” She clarified. “You two seem to click. Like your team from before.” 

Sitting across from him with a smile, Tochi looked down at her own plate. “I know, it’s an odd thing to say, but it’s true.” And started to stir her soup meekly, biting her lip. Only hearing the slurping sounds coming from Peter’s end, she glanced up at him, happy he was enjoying her cooking that much and took a sip from her own spoon. She hummed in delight and brought forward the awkward proposition poking in her mind. “So, um…” Her cheeks began to turn pink. “How about that date?” She confessed, looking at Peter straight in the eye as he almost dropped his bowl in his lap. 

* * *

“Why do I always meet assholes? Seriously…!” Malia grumbled to herself as she made her way into Rajak’s questionable district again with her hands stuffed angrily in her pockets. “For once can I just meet a nice guy? That’s all I ask.” She growled, recalling all the men she had met while at work or been set up with that gave Peter a run for his money. Boy, was she unlucky in finding one she didn’t want to punch in the face half of the time. Taking in a deep breath, she positioned herself behind a vendor sign big enough to cover her and glanced around for any sort of clothing store. She was so ready to lose the ill fitting Nova Uniform she wore.

Her eyes darted alongside the many buildings scattered from where she stood, their bright neon logos illuminating the streets as residents walked on by. She slowly took initiative to do the same, keeping her focus in finding a place to sell whatever contraband she took from Peter’s satchel and buy herself some new threads. “C’mon,” Malia mumbled to herself as she peeked through various market doors, finding nothing but disappointment. She really didn’t know what to look for. A shady Alien dealer? Maybe she shouldn’t have run off. She wasn’t cut out for any of this. 

Catching sight of a peculiar looking building as she turned to head back, Malia rose a brow. Not too far from her left was a peculiar looking building, bearing no signs, but a loud enough design for a door. “Yay?” She skeptically drawled, slowly walking up to it’s front steps and knocking, before peering in. “Hello…?” She whispered as she popped her head inside. Hearing no response, she let herself in and stood near the door. “Holy mother of—,” She gasped, completely taken aback by the large room centered below her. Large window cases laid scattered with various items on display. Even people!

She gripped onto the banister for comfort, feeling cautiously nervous and attempted to call out again. But, before she opened her mouth, a male voice erupted from somewhere unseen, making her jump at his tone.

“Who dares enters the Collector's museum unannounced!?”

* * *

Peter had completely forgotten about the little arrangement Malia had made with Tochi for their escape. In return for her help, Peter owed Tochi a date. It wasn't that the idea was unpleasant, Tochi was nice and all, but hanging out with old flames was always weird. "A date? Here? On Rajak?"

Tochi shrugged, poking at her food with her spoon. "It's not important, I just thought it'd be fun to catch up."

Peter considered it for a few moments. That didn't sound too bad, and it'd give him something else besides his seething rage to focus on. "Sure. Do you wanna go to the sh*tty district or the sh*tty, rocky wasteland that surrounds it?"

Tochi perked up before reigning in her excitement. "Really! I mean, only if you're up to it."

Peter shrugged before standing up. "Why not? It's not like we've got anything else to do."

Tochi stood up, a grin plastered across her face. She put a finger to her chin and narrowed her eyes. "We could always just hang out here. It's about the company anyway."

Peter looked around the ship, trying to think of something mildly entertaining to do. "Okay," He sighed before holding up a finger and walking past Tochi. "Come on." Tochi followed Peter as he ascended the ladder to the main hall. He made his way to his room, standing for a few seconds trying to figure out where Malia had put his tapes when she'd cleaned it up. Finally finding them, he ran his finger along the line, looking for the one he wanted. He glanced over his shoulder at Tochi who stood in the doorway. "My room, by the way."

Tochi nodded, throwing up her eyebrows. "Yeah, I... remember it."

Peter found the tape, grabbing it before making his way to his bed. He got on his knees and reached underneath, blindly searching until his hand found a bottle. Pulling out the bottle as he got to his feet, he gave a smile. "Good to go."

Tochi watched him, giggling as he walked past her again in a rush. "You in a hurry?"

Truthfully, he was desperate for a distraction, which meant he was moving pretty quick. He looked around at the main room of the ship, noting the layer of dust that'd formed in his absence. Sitting in the room alone wasn't his favorite activity. He opened a cabinet and pulled out two novelty Star Wars glasses he'd kept around, pouring the contents of the bottle into each. Tochi took the glass he held out to her, studying the pictures as she took it. "Least gross alcohol on the ship."

Tochi continued to look at her glass as Peter took a gulp from his. "What is 'Star Wars'?"

Peter sat his glass down as he bent over and popped open his tape deck. "Greatest story ever told. It's got space swords, space wizards, space battles, space... stuff."

Tochi giggled before taking a sip of her drink. "You don't have to say space before everything."

Peter nodded as he shut the tape deck and pressed play. "Yeah, I guess I picked that up from the stowaway." He stood, pushing the thoughts of Malia to the back of his mind. The opening notes of 'Tiny Dancer' by Elton John filled the ship as Peter held out his hand to Tochi. "You dance?"

Tochi sat her glass down, gingerly taking his hand. "It's been a while."

Peter put a hand on her waist and shrugged. "It's easy enough, you just move really."

Tochi put her hands in his shoulders, trying to follow his steps as he started to move with the music. She locked eyes with him as the melody continued to play. "The greatest story ever told?"

Peter nodded. "Yep."

She cocked her head. "Who's the hero of this 'greatest' story?"

Peter raised his brow. "Well, most think it's the whiny farm kid who's the hero. And sure, he has his moments, but really the hero is the guy in the vest." He nodded at the glass that bore the image of Han Solo. "That little whiny, feathery haired twerp would be dead ten times over if it weren't for him, so he's the hero."

Tochi laughed. "You're very passionate about this."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I am. I actually have a figure of...," He furrowed his brow as he remembered where said figure was. "Sh*t. My Han Solo figure was in my bag, which Malia took off with."

Tochi cocked her head. "She took your bag." She bit her lip as Peter nodded. "I... I put your music box thing in there when we got back to the ship."

Peter's eyes grew wide. "You mean she's got my Han Solo and my Walkman?! Geez, she may as well have taken a piece of my soul with her!" He groaned. "And on top of that she's got my coins."

Tochi furrowed her brow. "Coins?"

Peter nodded as Malia invaded his thoughts again. "Yeah, the coins I was smuggling to sell. She's got a small fortune on her."

Tochi let go of Peter and took a step back, her entire demeanor changing. "And they were in your bag?"

Peter studied her, a confused look on his face. "Yeah, why?"

She glanced at the floor. "You wouldn't have happened to get them when we were in the station, would you?" Peter nodded. "Was that what you got when you told me you weren't getting contraband from your ship?"

Peter winced, realizing what was going on all at once. "Well...," His shoulders dropped. "Yeah, it was."

Tochi nodded as Peter braced himself for her wrath. "You should probably go get Malia."

Peter furrowed his brow. "What? Why?"

Tochi held her hand out in the direction of the district. "Because she's walking around with stuff that any criminal worth their salt would want."

Peter groaned before checking his guns. "Fine, I'll go. But don't be surprised if she doesn't come back with me." He noticed Tochi's concerned look after he said that and glanced at the guns in his hands. "Not what I meant." After strapping his guns on his waist he made his way towards the ladder. He started down a few rungs before pausing and looking at Tochi. "You're not mad at me?"

Tochi looked up from the floor to meet his eyes and shook her bead. "Not at you, no."

* * *

If Malia could hide, she probably would have. But, with nowhere to go, stuck at the top of the entrance, she opted for backing up against a nearby wall. ‘The option of leaving was out of the question,’ She thought, at least not until she was certain she couldn’t sell Peter’s coins or get anything in return from this place. “S-Sorry!” She gulped while cautiously peering at the floor below for any signs of life. It was completely free of the male presence she had heard angrily shout. Empty! Her eyes quickly darted across the ceiling then around room. Maybe there were hidden cameras placed she couldn’t see. “Uh—I only came to sell some stuff?” 

She meekly pointed at the bag she carried, lifting it up for whomever to see, and drew closer to the banister again. Upon hearing what seemed like heels clicking rather rapidly off in the distance she looked on curiously, gripping onto Peter’s bag. Abruptly from a door, stumbled out a pink colored girl with hair to match. She looked around frantically around the room, panting from her running, until she spotted her and pointed a finger. “Present…” She caught her breath. “Present yourself!” She almost shouted as another echoing of footsteps were heard. “To my master.” She fixed her posture and disheveled go-go outfit and placed her hands clasped in front her. 

“Um…,” Malia slowly made her way down the flight of stairs with Peter’s bag gripped tightly around her fingers. “My name is Malia and I’m looking for a place to sell some items.” She answered, not knowing what to expect. She gave the Alien girl a wary smile. “If this isn’t one of those places, I can just leave, but if you can point me in the direction—,” Her rambling sentence was cut short by a figure who calmly entered the room. It was the man, whom she could only presume was the girl’s master and the owner of the establishment. He stood, very visibly applaud. 

“And you are?” He graciously exclaimed with an air of annoyance laced in his tone.

“Malia, Master. She came to sell some items.” The pink alien girl interjected rather kindly.

“What items?” The Collector turned to his side, showing his rather long fur trimmed cloak as he adjusted it over to one side and rose a silver brow at his guest. 

“Well…,” Malia averted his gaze, struggling to open Peter’s bag. “Contraband?” She whispered unsure if that was the right thing to say. She dug for some of the strange coins and held them out, earning a mere hum from the man. “I just want to sell them to buy some clothes and other essentials.” She added as he began to walk circles around her with one hand pressed firmly under his chin. 

“Interesting,” He announced, slowing down in his steps. “A human girl, selling me illegal relics for the want of new clothes.” He waved his hand at her, gesturing to what she wore in a disgust. “Today seems to be a very interesting day indeed.” He cocked his head to the side, having completely stopped in his pacing and clapped his hands twice toward his assistant who quickly stumbled forward.

“Korina, escort Malia to the back rooms while I prepare myself.” He stalked off into the room in which he'd come from and Malia turned toward Korina with an awkward smile. What did ‘prepare himself', even mean? She wondered as the pink haired girl began leading her across the room with pep in her walk. She looked over her shoulders every few minutes, pigtails bouncing, then forward again as if she wanted to ask her something, but couldn’t.

Entering a luxurious designed room with two couches and a coffee table at it’s center, Korina beckoned her to take a seat and positioned herself besides the side of the empty couch in front of her. “Please lay out all the items on the examining table.” She stated firmly before flicking on a button on it’s side that illuminated the glass in blue light. 

Malia looked on in curiosity, nodded and scattered the belongings inside Peter’s bag onto the table. She noticed his walkman and Han Solo Action figure and stuffed them quickly back into his bag. She should sell them with the lie they were good luck totems, but her anger over their spat from earlier had quickly subsided once she walked into this place. There was an aura around it that screamed, “caution” at her. Especially after meeting the owner. He seemed...peculiar to say the least. 

“Ready?” Korina asked cheerfully. 

“Yeah…,” Nodding slowly, Malia clasped her hands together as the door to the room opened and in walked The Collector, wearing something completely new. This is what he meant by getting prepared? She raised a brow at his figure, still keeping her thoughts to herself. She’d rather observe for now. He had changed into a red leather ensemble, with a cheetah printed cloak mixed with fur draped around his shoulders. He sure had some taste in clothes. Looking down at the items on the coffee table, Malia watched him as he took a seat.

He placed a jewelers eye loupe against one of his eyes and leaned in to examine the coins on the table, one by one without a word. All that was heard was the calibrating tabletop as he put each one to one side and tapped the glass. Korina watched on while nodding and glancing over at her. “Alright.” Taking the piece out of his eye quite dramatically, The Collector paused momentarily, looking up at the ceiling. “8,000 units.” He expressed, causing Malia to blink twice. Was that good? She didn’t know, but accepted it. 

At the snap of his fingers, Korina walked off and returned with a small pouch. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, my dear.” He noted, taking the velvet sac from his assistant and placing it gently on the table. “Now, about your...wardrobe.” He waved again at her clothes with distaste. “Come along. I may be able to fix your problem.” He stood gracefully from the couch and Malia followed in suit not as gracious, grabbing for the money. “Thank You!” She managed to offer as they made their way down the long corridor. He only hummed in approval. 

“That Nova Uniform is no good running around in.” He further noted, looking over his shoulder. He came to a stop to open the door before them and stepped to the side in a bowing matter for her to walk in. Cautiously Malia did so, waiting for him to follow suit. The room looked like a lost and found part of his Museum with items scattered on top of various tables.

“Anything to your liking is yours…,” He announced from behind her. “For a price of course.”

Malia looked at him, “Money?” She asked, ready to dig into Peter’s bag for some units. 

“No. Answers.” The Collector corrected as he made his way into the center of the room.

“Answers?” She repeated, taking a step back, confused. “I don’t know what you want to know.” 

Malia started to feel uneasy. She tried her best not to show her nervousness and walked around the table to poke at the material placed on them. She noticed Korina was no longer with them and bit down on her lip. Maybe she was dumb to think all of this would go smoothly and she’d be in and out. Picking up a black skin suit with long sleeves and cute lining, she gazed at The Collector who merely stared back at her curiously. His features seemed to glow from the dim lighting in the room. His silver hair more prominent along with the eyeliner he wore. 

“So, tell me Malia from Earth. Where’s Peter Quill?” He bluntly pronounced, taking the article of clothing she held up from her and placing over his forearm. “I’d recognize that hideous jacket of his anywhere.” He added with a forced smile across his face.

Malia looked over the clothes she wore, having forgotten she's put Peter’s jacket on and smiled awkwardly back at him. How many people even knew him at this point? She thought to herself as she averted looking at The Collector in hopes she’d appeared more calm. She had to play it smart and not say too much. Finish taking what she needed and excuse herself out. “I don’t know. I ran off.” She soon answered, taking random clothing materials and placing it on his arm. Play. It. Cool. She repeated. 

“I figured why not take his stuff, sell it and use it to get back home?” She continued. “I just want to leave this place if I’m being honest.” Which was an actual truth. “I don’t want any part in anything.” She paused as she examined over a bulky belt that had many compartments. “And to do that properly, I’ll need clothes to blend in until then.” She placed the belt on her own forearm and turned around to look at the eccentric man. That wasn’t so bad. She only prayed he’d take her half-witted answer.

He slowly started to laugh, throwing his head back. “Oh my!” He cackled, earning a giggle from Malia. In unison they laughed until he stopped himself, clearly amused. She however, couldn’t tell if he believed her or not. “What a very interesting day this has been.” He expressed as he handed over the pile of clothes he held for her and waved his hands over them. “I’ve heard enough. Take the clothes and toodaloo.” With his arm extended toward the door, Malia slowly walked to it, more confused then she had been before, but relieved. 

Outside the room, Korina waited with a large bag in her hand. How did she even…? Malia glanced over at The Collector then back at the smiling Alien girl who grabbed her things and placed them inside the bag. She was being pushed out of there pretty quickly. And all of a sudden too, making her feel anxious. “Um, Thank You.” She managed to slip out before being pushed gently out of the establishment without warning. Stumbling forward back into the District, she heard the door behind her lock and faint clicking of heels.

_“That went well.”_

* * *

Peter wandered the district's market, scanning the area for any sign of Malia. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he even wanted to find her. He also truthfully felt bad about that. Add to that his guilt over the whole Tochi thing and he was starting to think that maybe going it alone was the better option after all. He stopped a passerby as they hurried along. "Hey, have you seen a girl about this tall?" He put his hand at his chest for reference. "Carrying a bag and wearing a red jacket? You'd know her by the pure anger radiating off of her body."

The alien shook his head and waved Peter off before continuing on their way. Peter groaned before continuing on his way. He didn't know what all that sh*t about he and Malia clicking that Tochi had said was about. They got along about as well as the Kree and Skrull did. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't entertained the thought of ditching her here, but yet again his conscience had won out. Stupid conscience. He was sure once he found her she'd be just as angry and difficult as before. She'd glare at him wit those pretty brown eyes and... Peter furrowed his brow, trying to figure out why 'pretty' had even crossed his mind. 

He slipped out of the crowd, guessing Malia would have avoided it too. His eyes scanned the buildings along the street as he continued his search. He finally caught sight of Malia making her way back into the market and braced himself for what'd probably be another argument. Just as he took his first steps towards her, a hand grabbed his shoulder from the darkness of the alley, pulling him back in with it. Peter hissed in pain as his back slammed into the wet ground. He sat up and immediately found himself staring down the barrels of two guns. "Hey, Peter."

Peter recognized the heavy accent immediately as belong into the bounty hunter from earlier. "Of course I'd run into you."

The Kree gave a cheeky grin. "But of course. Ya can't hide forever from Bounty."

Peter paused and furrowed his brow. "Wait, is your name is Bounty?"

The hunter nodded with a look of pride on his face. "Yep. B-O-W," He paused, His eyes looking off in the distance for a moment. "It's Bounty."

Peter slowly got to his feet. This guy wasn't the brightest, but you give any idiot two machine guns and they're dangerous. "Listen, can't we work something out?"

Bounty shook his head. "Nope. Already got myself a good arrangement for catching you, your friend and a rogue Nova as well. Quite the payday for all three of ya."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "You really think you'll be able to catch all three. A little blonde Nova cadet was all it took to put you down last time."

The Kree glared at Peter. "I was caught by surprise! Besides, I won't be going it alone." He glanced upwards. "Here comes the cavalry."

Peter followed the hunter's gaze towards the sky, his heart sinking immediately. At least twenty Nova ships soared overhead. He stared at the procession, every part of him screaming to run. 

"Let's go find your friend."

* * *

At the sound of the hovering aircrafts that went on by, gathering attention, Malia felt her heart sink. She looked up along with the residents who took a moment to glance at the sky and stopped in her tracks. She immediately recognized those ships! It was the Nova Corp. Cursing underneath her breath, Malia watched the direction the ships headed in, and slowly started to feel a rise of panic as the grim realization set in. They were headed directly toward Peter and Tochi. Almost dropping her shopping bag on the district floor, she gripped onto it tightly before sprinting down the market, in the opposite direction.

She couldn’t risk being captured again, knowing Wayne wouldn’t be too merciful with her, let alone Peter. “What do I do?” She asked herself desperately as she ducked into a dim alleyway and caught her breath. She felt sick to her stomach for choosing to run. But, she had no other choice! The overwhelming fear of what would happen to her if she did was crippling her. Unlike Tochi, she had no fighting chance. Taking in a shaky breath, Malia forced her legs move forward, further down the alley. She had to keep moving. 

_“I’m sorry Peter.”_


	11. Chapter 10 pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys! :) I hope you fellow readers are enjoying this story so far. You're in for a lengthy read this chapter! I wanted to just thank everyone who has been reading. Peter Quill over the years has come to mean a lot me and I thought it was time I shared that with others through writing a centric journey around him. In a way this chapter is a closing to the first arc, getting ya'll ready for the next. I would love to hear your thoughts about it thus far! So, don't forget to leave a comment.

Tochi sat in the pilot seat of the ship with her feet on the console. In the time since Star-Lord had left she'd polished off most of the bottle of booze they'd been sharing and was feeling it's effects. She'd desperately tried to distract herself with something and had settled on trying to get Star-Lord's helm device working again. She didn't just feel like an idiot schoolgirl for having blindly trusted Star-Lord, no such luck there. Her fellow cadets had made it a point to tell her he was bad news, but she'd ignored them in favor of what? A stupid infatuation with the guy? And even worse she'd put her career and now freedom on the line over it. She took another swig from the bottle as she studied the device in her hand. 

She'd found some tools in what looked like a work area down below and had borrowed a couple. Maybe she should just take off. It's not like Star-Lord needed her with Malia already around. She giggled as she thought back on the pair's numerous arguments she'd been around for. They really did make a good team, even if they couldn't see it. Something in the device beeped and a small light blinked on, making Tochi smile with satisfaction. The device then began emit a warbling tone that Tochi didn't recognize. She placed it behind her ear and tapped it, jumping as the helm enclosed around her head. The tone continued in her right ear until she tapped the helmet there. 

"Geez, Pete, I was beginning to think you were dead. Not an unpleasant thought, mind you."

Tochi furrowed her brow as the brash voice spoke into her ear. "Um, hello?"

There was a few seconds of silence before the voice answered. "Who the hell are you? Wait, is Pete dead? Or are his floozies answering his calls now?"

Tochi was flustered by the rudeness of the caller. "I'm not... I mean, he's not dead."

A dark chuckle came over the call. "Not for lack if trying, I'm sure. He there?"

Tochi started to answer when her eyes caught something outside of the ship's windscreen. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of Nova ships cruising straight towards her. She jumped out of the seat and darted towards the ladder. "Sorry, bad time. Call back later."

"What? Don't you dar..." The voice was cut off by Tochi ending the call as she slid down the ladder. 

* * *

Peter glanced from the passing ships to Bounty holding him at gunpoint. The hunter watched the ships with obvious interest, which was an opening Peter wouldn't waste. Peter kicked forwards, the Kree's gut taking the full brunt of the blow. Bounty doubled over, dropping his guns to the alley floor. Peter brought both of his fists down on the back of the man's head, knocking him flat on his face. He hopped over his groaning 'captor' and started towards the open market before turning back and giving Bounty a swift kick between the legs. He bent down as the man groaned in agony. "That's for shooting my partner."

With that he darted out into the crowded market. Any excitement over the Nova's arrival had already died down, the crowd going about their business. Peter stayed in the thickest parts of the group, keeping his eyes on the sky. It should be a bit before they got back to him on foot, but some of those ships were heading towards Tochi and the ship. With no way of warning her, all he could do was hope she saw them in time. For now though, he had to focus on finding Malia. 

He slipped out of the crowd and started towards where he had seen her before. His eyes scanned the area as he turned a corner, stopping dead in his tracks as they caught sight of the Nova ship hovering twenty feet above. The bottom of the ship opened and a golden light poured out, bathing the street in yellow. A group of Novas jumped down, their descent slowed by the beam as they readied their weapons. Peter turned to run and was met with the snarling face of Bounty as he rounded the corner, his guns raised. "You're in for it now, Peter Quinn." 

Peter couldn't help but feel satisfaction at the slight limp that Bounty had. The Novas were yelling at him to put his hands in the air behind him, all probably leveling their weapons at his head. This was a situation all too familiar with Peter, and in his experience it was better to act first and think later in them. So, with that directive, he drew his guns.

* * *

Malia was one-hundred percent certain she was lost. With the district around her no longer looking even vaguely familiar, she knew she had aimlessly wandered off too far. The dirt streets were practically empty with a few stragglers and vendors who stared on as she walked by. Something didn’t feel right. She tucked her bag close to her chest and averted meeting any alien faces as she picked up her pace. There weren’t any buildings to go into or anymore hiding spots, just the open street space. “Damn it.” She muttered, chewing nervously the inside of her cheek. 

“Hey, you!” An unfamiliar voice called out. “Turn around. Slowly.”

Malia’s breath hitched, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck and arm stand at the sound of the voice. Her heart began to pound against her chest. She stood still and ignored the stranger's command. The residents nearby all gazed at her, unfazed by the situation. They were in on it. Digging her nails into the material of the bag, she heard who she assumed was a Nova Soldier shout at her once again, “I said turn around!” Heavy footsteps followed afterward, causing her to throw caution to the wind and start to run across the street. 

Bullets flew past her head as she sprinted, screaming from the unexpected shots fired toward her. It was very clear, she was being apprehended one way or another. Wildly zigzagging through the outskirts of the district with Nova Troops quick on her tail, Malia came to an abrupt stop at the sight of Wayne marching toward her with two very large Cadets on either side of him. “Sh*t!” She let out, feeling completely trapped. She darted her brown eyes in every possible direction then looked back. There was no way to go. 

“Now, Now, Malia.” Wayne scolded with a smirk, “Play nice. I just came to say hello.”

“Go to hell!” Malia spat, still searching for an opening to take. “I know you didn’t.”

“Well, that’s not nice, is it?” Wayne narrowed his cold eyes and stopped a few feet away from her, the men at his side moving to stand behind him with their weapons in hand. “You see, you’ve made things oh-so complicated for me!” He growled, pointing sharply toward her direction as he paced back and forth in place. “And I—” He waved a wild hand over himself. “Can’t have that.”

‘What?’ Malia took a moment to realize what he meant. The conversation with the man she had overheard and seen making its way to her in an awakening jolt. She was wanted now, by whomever that man with the helmet was and for whatever reason. Wayne was just a pawn in this puzzle. And she? She looked up at the Nova Commander who still stood visibly seething at her and clutched onto her bag, unsure of what to do. 

“Just take me home!” She implored, going with the option of reasoning. “Then everything goes back to normal.” She added, earning a skeptical glare from Wayne. She had to try. He did want to dispose of her after all. And he could do so by leaving her back on Earth like she never set foot in space. Peter could go back to his outlawing behavior and she to her boring life back in New York. Everything set back to normal even if part of her wanted to stay. Malia threw him a pleading look. 

“As lovely as that sounds and all...” Wayne cocked his head to one side and took a long pause, his face registering no sign of emotion from her request. “N-O! This is what’s going to happen.” He snarled as he approached her and came uncomfortably close to her face. “You're going to make your pretty little self come willingly or by force, I don’t care at this point.” He started to explain, licking his chapped lips. “And then, I’m going to capture Peter and take you,” He poked her roughly on her shoulder. “To my superior. Got it?” 

With a sinister smile plastered on his face, Wayne took a step back, extending his arms out. He did a full turn, pretending to be shocked by his own men and threw his head back in laughter. “I actually want you to make things difficult for me.” He cackled, making Malia more uneasy than she already felt. There was no doubt in her mind Wayne was a deranged man, hidden in Nova clothing. It was all in his soulless eyes. She had no choice but to accept his proposition until she came up with a better one or a plan. 

Taking a hesitant forward, she held out her hands to be cuffed. “Okay.”

* * *

Tochi ran down the ship's hall, still wearing Star-Lord's helm. Her mind raced to try and formulate a plan. She'd considered taking off, but where could she have gone? It's not like she was going to leave the others behind. She could hear the ships now, but the sound was cut off by the familiar warbling tone in her ear. Against her better judgement she answered. "You know, Pete's last girl was at least not rude."

Tochi looked around for the room filled with weapons that she'd treated Malia's gunshot wound in. "Sorry, I'm kind of in a bind right now."

"I don't want to know about you and Pete's kinks!"

Tochi shook her head, trying to banish the alcohol's ill effects. "No, it's an actual situation."

The voice on the other end sighed. "Is it a situation that can be solved with violence? What am I saying? Of course it can. Where are you?"

Tochi stiffened as a metallic knocking echoed through the ship. "I'm on Star-L... Pete's ship."

_ "Can you phase through solid objects?" _

Tochi furrowed her brow. "N-no."

_ "Eh, last one could. Worth a shot. Alright, have you happened to have seen a work bench covered in sh*t?" _

Tochi nodded, stopping when she remembered it was a voice call. "Yes, I have."

She started to make her way to the bench as the voice continued. "Good, underneath the bench there's a loose metal panel on the floor. Grab what's in there."

Tochi knelt next to the work bench, pulling the tile from the ground. Another knock echoed as she pulled the metal ball from the hiding spot. "Okay, I got it."

_ "Good, now twist it until you hear a click and toss it at the 'situation'." _

Tochi started towards the supply door. "Will it kill them?"

There was a chuckle from the other end. _"Not unless they really suck at landing."_

Tochi didn't have time to question it, settling for a quick prayer that it wouldn't turn her former peers into a fine red mist. She pressed the button and the door slowly started to open downward. As soon as the opening was big enough she twisted the device and threw it through the gap. A moment passed, then a brilliant purple light flooded the ship. Tochi held up a hand to shield her eyes as the Novas yelled in surprise. A few seconds of blinding light and screaming later and it all subsided. Tochi lowered her hand to look out the now fully open door. Novas lay scattered everywhere, either what she hoped was unconscious or incapacitated. "What was that?"

She winced as loud laughter burst into her ear. "Hilarious, that's what! I could hear the screaming over the comm." A few moments later the laughing died down. "Well, it's been real, but I gotta go. Tell Pete to redial me when he's around." A rumbling voice came over the line, but Tochi couldn't make out what it had said. "No, you can't talk to him. It's not even him, it's some girl."

Tochi tapped the helm as the caller hung up and it faded from her face. Now, she had to make a plan that didn't sound too drunk.

* * *

Peter fired one gun at the group of Novas and the other at Bounty, making sure they were stun bolts. He bolted towards a building as he continued to fire, hoping he'd at least have a second or two before either party returned fire. Just as he dove towards the storefront window the deafening sound of machine gun fire pierced the air. Peter crashed through the window, small shards of glass stinging and slicing at him as he slid on the ground. He got to his feet as the contents of the store's shelves exploded around him and dashed towards the back. The door burst open as Peter collided shoulder first into it, the speed sending him tumbling into the alley. 

He glanced back to see his pursuers following his path into the store and took off running. A dumpster lay ahead, possibly giving him just enough of a boost to get to a rooftop. What he'd do once he got there he didn't know. He holstered his guns, scrambling up the dumpster. Bounty burst through the door and into the alley behind him. "C'mon, Peter!"

Peter jumped up, grabbing the ledge of the roof. He was banking on the fact that they'd want him alive, and judging by Bounty's sprinting at him instead of shooting he was right. Peter groaned as he pulled himself up onto the roof and stood up. As closely packed together as the buildings were he could run for a good while up here. He took off in a sprint, leaping to the adjacent building. The sounds of a furious Bounty followed him as he ran. After a little more of this, he'd drop down and disappear into the crowded streets again. Easy pea- Peter cried out as the ground beneath him shattered. 

Peter fell down amidst a shower of broken glass, finally stopping as he crashed through a table. He groaned as the table's remains sparked and sputtered around him, slowly sitting up. The room was all fancy, far fancier than what he was used to. He put a hand on the nearest luxurious piece of furniture and got to his feet. A door burst open behind him, making him glance over his shoulder. The silver haired man whipped his cape aside and raised a gloved accusatory finger. "Peter Quill!"

"Aw geez, not this guy."

* * *

Everything seemed to slow down. The minute the word, ‘okay,’ left her mouth and cuffs were securely placed around her wrists, time seemed to instantly drag. ‘This was the only way,’ she reassured herself as she abruptly was shuffled in between a group of Nova Soldiers and kept firmly in line with Wayne marching ahead, head held high. She let her wild thoughts settle in, the rampant sound of heavy footsteps drowning away. Her mind instantly went to Peter and her guilt. Was he okay? She wondered, feeling nauseated at the possibility he was not. Had the Nova Corp captured him and...Tochi? 

Malia gripped the plastic material of the bag she desperately clung onto and looked around carefully enough not to draw any attention to her lingering eyes. She would take the risk and run at any chance she could get. She just needed an opening. Walking back through the crowded streets of the market place should give her that opportunity. All she had to do was wait and hope somewhere Peter had made it out okay. She didn’t know if heading in his direction was wise, not with Wayne around. If there were Nova Cadets waiting there surely dozens surrounding the ship. 

“Keep up, Reyes!” 

One of the soldier’s knocked her out of her reverie by nudging her unexpectedly forward with the tip of his gun. Malia mumbled a low ‘sorry,’ as she fell back in stride with everyone else. It felt like they were walking for hours, when in actuality it's been minutes. Locking her attention up ahead, past Wayne, she noticed the Market Place come into view. This was her chance. She bit down on her bottom lip and breathed in, keeping herself calm. She had two Soldiers on either side of her, one in the back and Wayne present up front. Feeling the curious eyes of the alien residents on her as they set foot inside the shopping part of the district, Malia toppled over to one side, falling abruptly against the Soldier to her right. 

She began to cough wildly on him, moaning in fake pain as she held her sides and screamed, “It hurts!” loud enough to cause a scene. The Nova Cadet looked up quickly at his commander with wide eyes and made certain not to let her fall on the dirt path. “Sir?” He stammered for a command, Malia’s shrieking only getting louder by the minute. Wayne only proceeded by unhooking one of the guns from his leg and pointing it at her. “Leave her on the ground.” He harshly ordered his cadet. “Keep. Screaming.” He snarled each word, his eyes intensively burning into her. 

Malia averted his gaze as she laid on the ground and counted. It was now or never. Kicking his feet from under him as he drew closer to her, she rolled over to one side as the Nova Soldiers moved to grab her. She scrambled onto her feet and dove forward not looking back for one second. She could hear Wayne bark out orders at his men to head back and leave her to him, his words oozing out like venom as she ran without direction to soon hear him trot behind her. “Oh little Rabbit!” He called out, forcing her to look back. 

Not too far from her, Wayne harshly pushed past the residents as he kept up through the crowds she herself dodged. His red face said everything, the radiating rage visibly ached through his features. Feeling her breath hitch to the back of her throat, Malia turned around as her breathing became erratic. She tried her best to stay focused on the path ahead, but suddenly felt her heart sink to the pits of her stomach as the surroundings started to fade. “No. Not now!” She desperately shrieked into the group she maneuvered through. If she blacked out to that place again…

She made a hard left upon getting out of the sea of Aliens and continued to run. In and out, the distraction faded until a figure slowly began to show itself up ahead, adorning a very recognizable trench coat. Malia skidded to an abrupt stop, gripping her bag. “Go away.” She mumbled under her breath as the familiar man started to make himself more visible. She felt the alley she was in topple over and her legs soon buckling from an unexpected weight. Closing her eyes tightly shut, she prayed for him to go away, forgetting about the impending danger still around.

Her brown eyes shot wildly open as two strong hands came from behind her, tightly gripping onto the material of her clothes. She was allowed a small gasp of surprise before being thrown into an empty marketplace with doors that closed soon after her body collided against the ground floor. Wayne stood above her, panting out of breath, face smoldering and hair unkempt. He pointed his gun at her face once again, this time crawling over her to place the tip against her forehead. “I did want you to make things hard for me.” He expressed, licking his lips. 

“You don’t have to do this.” Malia stammered, feeling her voice shake. She wasn’t an idiot. The way Wayne looked at her confirmed she wasn’t going to get out of this unharmed. It was in his eyes, his scowling face. She would have to fight her way out of this. “Please…,” She added as she attempted to inch her face away from the gun he raised and abruptly collided with her face before standing. He shook off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor and stalked over to her.

“I’m glad we can have this time to ourselves,” Grabbing her by the hair, Wayne growled like a rabid animal. Malia used her nails to dig into his hands as he dragged her across the room. She kicked her legs to make things harder for him. “My superior told me I needed to hand you over in one piece.” He battled with her hands against his, each word escaping his lips in a snarl. “Meaning discipline was part of the job description.” He spat out, letting out a yelp as teeth sank into his hand, causing him to jerk back from the pain. “You little…!”

“Ah!” Malia swung her fist against the side of his face and proceeded to run for the door. Her feet were however quickly swept from underneath her by Wayne’s hand. He pulled her toward him and she desperately kicked him away as she pleaded for help, her cries bouncing off the walls. Maybe just maybe an Alien would hear her pleas. But, no one ever came. She battled against Wayne, clawing and kicking as she was thrown against the wall and old furniture, pushing back every chance she could “F*ck you!” She yelled. 

“What?” Wayne chuckled, running his hand through his black hair. “Now, we gotta do something about that potty mouth of yours.” He lunged forward with a plastered smile on his lips and yanked Malia upward to eye level. She wrinkled her nose and spit at his face. He groaned, wiped the saliva from his face and angrily slammed her against the ground floor before straddling over her. “Oops.” He laughed, encircling his hands around her neck as she recovered. “Bet you can’t speak now!” His hold slowly tightened and the panic from her brown eyes only excited him. 

“No!” Malia gripped tightly onto Wayne’s hands, feeling her heart start to pound furiously against her chest as his hold around her neck closed even more. She could feel the oxygen slowly start to leave her and her vision start to blur from the settled panic. She reached out toward his face to push him with whatever lingering strength she had left, but let her hand fall to the side. She gasped for breath, Wayne’s cackling echoing around her and she braced herself. ‘Peter…,’ She thought as she turned her head to the side and locked eyes with Wayne’s forgotten Nova gun. Pushing herself once more, she extended her arm out toward the weapon. 

At the sight of her attempt Wayne reached himself out for his gun, lifting enough pressure from her for her to completely grab it and turn to shoot. The sound of the bullet escaping the barrel exploded into her ears, popping her eardrums. Everything moved slow as her vision adjusted itself. There was also a muffled noise that she soon noticed came from Wayne. She stumbled backwards away from him as his voice made itself clear again. 

“You b*tch!” He cried, squirming on the floor in agony. “What did you do!?” 

Malia looked at the gun in her hand and noticed the trail of blood splattered on her, leading to Wayne. She had shot him. Seeing him wrap his hands to the side of his face, she scrambled to her feet and gathered the bags she had come with. “I’m sorry…,” She whispered as she wobbled to the door and struggled out into the market with Wayne’s agonizing screams rattling in her mind. She had to find Peter. She needed him.

* * *

Peter dusted himself off, wincing with each newfound pain from the fall. Bounty wasn't far behind, he had to keep moving. "I'd love to stay and shoot the breeze, but I'm in a hurry."

The Collector stood aside from the door, gesturing for Peter to go through. "By all means. I've no interest in having you anywhere near my collection."

Peter walked by the man, giving him a smirk. "You're not still sore about that thing with the one of a kind jewel and the toilet, are you?"

The Collector stiffened, taking a deep breath. "Don't make me reconsider, mister Quill. I've no patience for your foolishness."

Peter waved him off and stepped into the museum's main floor. "Yeah, yeah. Nice place you got here, way weirder than the last one." He started towards the door, stopping at one of the cases. Arranged in a nice formation were the coins Malia had taken with her. "Where'd you get these?"

The Collector followed along, trying to shoo Peter away. "Your friend was by, and sold them at a good price. Another for your band of misfits?"

Peter shook his head, chuckling at the thought of Malia as a Guardian. "No, not at all. Where is she now?"

The Collector held up a hand. "I haven't a clue. She left with the money and some clothes."

Peter groaned before making for the door. "Thanks for nothing, bye, hope I never see you again."

The Collector gave a lackadaisical wave. "Mutual sentiments, I assure you."

There was a thump in the room Peter had fallen into, followed by a long string of cursing. Bounty emerged from the room just as Peter slipped out the door. He froze as he caught sight of the plentiful Novas milling about the crowded street, finally ducking into a nearby alley. Peering over a garbage bin he'd taken cover behind, he watched the streets with growing anxiety. All these Novas and Malia were wandering around. God, what a mess. "Where are you at, Quinn!?"

The heavy accent could only have belonged to Bounty. A few moments later and he appeared, scanning the crowd and drawing the attention of the Novas. He continued to yell until a voice interrupted him. "What the hell are you on about?!"

Bounty was taken aback by the voice. "I'm looking for those bounties you wanted."

A moment later and Wayne stepped into view. Peter wrinkled his nose, ducking down a bit lower. Wayne looked like hell, his suit ripped and covered in dirt. Blood stained the front of the outfit as well, coming from what looked like an eye injury that he was covering with his hand. "Quinn? It's Quill! Get out of here, you primitive moron. The bounty is off! If anybody is going to find these fugitives it's going to be me!"

Wayne turned to leave, his whole body practically shaking with rage. "Aw, c'mon. You look like you could use some more eyes out here helping."

Wayne froze, taking a deep breath as he looked up and chuckled. He grabbed the gun off the belt of the nearest Nova, levelling it at Bounty's face before pulling the trigger. The Kree's head snapped back as he fell to the ground. Wayne tossed the gun away and wordlessly walked off. Peter raised his brow, slightly regretting he hadn't gotten to take the shot. At least he now knew the Novas didn't have Malia. But that still meant she was... "Peter."

Peter whipped around at the almost silent utterance of his name. Relief washed over him as he saw Malia standing there, but it slowly began to fade. The color had drained from her face and blood was splattered here and there on her chest and face. She held a gun in one of her shaking hands and her eyes were drained of their usual liveliness. "Malia?"

* * *

Malia felt her eyes start to water at the sight of Peter, her emotions getting the best of her. She didn’t believe she’d see him again. Not with all the awful luck she was having. And with what happened…! She let out a heavy yet shaky breath of relief and walked toward him, blinking away any tears. “You won’t believe me,” She oddly uttered in a squeaky pitch, feeling her legs start to buckle while she tried to keep a brave enough face going. “Novas, Wayne—,” She fell forward as Peter sprung over to catch her in time and she clung to his forearms, vomiting all at once what had happened to her.

Her words were erratic and sounded as such as she explained to him the last few occurrences, from The Collector, to the district chase and lastly Wayne whose horrifying screams she vividly remembered. She stopped to catch her breath and noticed just how anxious she must have really appeared to Peter with the way he looked at her, being taken aback by it. His brows were furrowed, lips set in a thin line and expression was humorless. She'd never seen him so serious. He always had that careless air about him.

“Peter, about before,” Malia started to say, feeling a wave of regret wash over her. She wanted to apologize to him for running away and their childish spat back at the ship. “I’m—” Upon opening her mouth again, Peter covered her lips with his hand and pulled her down, heavy booted footsteps quickly being heard. She ducked her head down behind the bin they were covered by, peering from it’s side to catch a pair of Nova Soldiers and looked directly at Peter. Both their eyes locked and silence ensued between them. 

There was that pesky butterfly feeling again she wished went away. “Sorry…,” She mumbled, taking the chance to finish her previous statement and avert his gaze, her cheeks now burning. Being huddled up together, uncomfortably close enough to hear each other's breaths wasn’t helping her case. She didn’t like him like that! Besides, he and Tochi made a good pair. Sure, she was a bit gullible but why should she care? It was his life and spending these days in Space with him made her feel... she shook her random thoughts away. “We-We should really get going.” 

Malia leaned back away from Peter and drew her attention anywhere else, opting for the alley the pair of Nova’s emerged from. They were still searching for them, every minute or so a scouting pair emerging in a slow saunter and making a turn. As one disappeared she attempted to get on her feet clumsily enough to wobble over and fall into Peter again. She cursed herself, trying not to look him in the face and closed her eyes to apologize—before cautiously letting them slowly open against her better judgment. 

She just stared at him, almost lost in a trance as his eyes looked like galaxies.

Peter returned Malia's gaze as he held her up. She'd told him everything so quickly he'd barely caught it all. Yet again, he was amazed by her and how she'd handled herself. He also had half a mind to go find Wayne and shoot him down in the street for what he'd put her through. On top of it all, there was a twinge of guilt. "Listen, I shouldn't have let you go off alone. I'm sorry. So, until I get you home, you and I are gonna stay together, even if we hate each other's guts. Deal?"

Malia nodded, giving a small smile. "Yeah, deal."

Peter smiled back, amused by her discomfort, but taken aback by his own. "Shouldn't be too hard. According to Tochi we make a good team."

Malia furrowed her brow. "What?"

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, I don't see it either." He paused, thinking he may have come across wrong. "Not that we couldn't, I mean, you're... and you've been so... yeah,"

Peter became suddenly aware that he was still holding Malia by her arms. He pushed her gently so that she was sitting up on her own. They stared at each other in silence until Malia cleared her throat. "Can we get to the ship?"

Peter shook his head, pushing his conflicting emotions to the back of his mind. "Not with all these Novas, no way." He glanced at Malia and held out his hand. "Give me the gun."

Malia handed him the gun, looking surprised as he tossed it in the trash. "What are...?"

Peter held out one of his guns to her. "Putting bullets in Novas ain't gonna help us out right now. Only pull the bottom trigger, that'll knock them on their ass."

Malia took the gun, eyeing it warily. "O-okay."

Peter tried to put on a comforting smile. "It'll be fine." He winked. "Promise."

In actuality, he had no idea what they were going to do. But after the sh*t Malia had been through, he'd put on a brave face for her. He had no... the sound of a roaring ship cut off his thoughts. The shadow of the offending vessel passed over them, prompting Peter to look up. "No way." Peter watched as his ship hovered just above the rooftops, scraping them at times with grating sound. Peter smiled. "Tochi, you beautiful cadet you."

Malia stood just as the Novas opened fire on the ship. "She didn't see us! We have to get her attention!"

Peter nodded as he stood at her side. It was going to get worse before it got better. "Right! You ready, 'partner'?"

“Ready!” Malia gripped her fingers around the gun Peter had given her and nodded her head in acknowledgement. All hell was going to break loose the minute they stepped out into the open and she needed to brace herself for whatever chase was coming their way. It was one thing after another here for her. Maybe her space luck was just as bad as her earth one, she thought, rolling her eyes as she followed Peter closely behind around the narrow alleyway and locked eyes with the bag of his she still carried. She smiled, remembering the units she had and turned to Peter silently. She definitely had to tell him or rather gloat about the 8,000 units she scored.

Inching closer to his form as a group of Nova strolled on by, Malia took a deep breath, as Peter lifted up a finger then two in a slow count. Here they went — into the lion's den. She looked down at the gun in her hand and prayed she didn’t see Wayne again. At the count of three, both she and Peter bolted out of the alley and into the street. Her feet carried her as fast as they could possibly take her, the sound of rapid yet heavy booted footsteps making themselves quite known moments after. “They're coming!” She threw her head over her shoulder to catch sight of a group of Novas not far behind. 

“Nerf this…!” Malia aimed sloppily enough to fire a shot in their direction, knocking the horde back and accidentally destroying a nearby stand. “Yes,” She took a brief moment to fist pump the air while she ran, feeling good about her half-assed shot and favorite game quote. Maybe her luck wasn’t so bad up here after all. She reached out for Peter 's hands as he started to get too ahead of her and caught up with him. She hated all this running. “Why couldn’t Tochi just land on the damn ground!?” She huffed in between breaths. Time certainly wasn’t on their side. More Novas were bound to appear soon enough and they needed a way to the roof. 

Scanning the District Streets as she hung onto Peter, Malia halted in step, pulling him back. “There!” She pointed at a pair of stairs next to an unsuspecting street vendor and bolted in it’s direction with determination. The thought of seeing Wayne again popped into her head, making her push herself forward — through the aching she felt all across her body. She tripped over a flight of stairs, snapping out of her thoughts and gasped at the loud commotion heading there way. She turned to Peter, who gently took back his gun from her hands and faced the entrance. “More Novas...What are you doing?” She uttered, furrowing her brows. 

“Creating a distra—,” Peter’s words faded off as soon as Malia started to pull him back up the stairs. They both needed to run! “No! Let’s just leave. Now!” She pleaded with him, her nails digging into the material of his shirt. She’d pull him to the roof by force if she needed. “We still have time to reach the roof.” She added with a worried expression lodged across her face. She tugged at his wrists, maneuvering him forward. “Let’s go!” At the sound of footsteps approaching the doorway, Malia bolted up the stairs still holding Peter’s hand. “Oh my god!” She let out in a whisper as she peered over the banister to catch sight of the Nova Cadets ascending the stairs in unison. 

Her and Peter continued to run, throwing whatever heavy objects they could find in their path. Upon reaching the roof, Peter kicked open the door whilst Malia rushed frantically forward to wave her hands in an attempt to get Tochi’s attention. As the ship began to slowly open it’s carrier, Peter jammed a metal pole in between the door’s opening, turning around as the heavy winds from the ship's turbines rounded close to the roof's surface. But, not enough — leaving a gap open they would need to jump. Tochi couldn’t exactly park the ship on the roof without toppling the entire building over or worse. “You need to jump!” Peter quickly found himself saying as the roof door began to shake.

“What!?” Malia whipped her head around, shocked, with her eyes wide and brows furrowed downward. “What about you?” She stepped forward, gripping the strap of her bag. She couldn’t leave him. Feeling the warm air of the ship’s turbines start to hit her, she turned to look up at the opened carrier then back at Peter, feeling nauseated. The banging sound coming from the roof door was only getting louder. He’d create his distraction and jump right? Malia took in a deep breath, Tochi’s voice unexpectedly blaring over the momentary silence. “Hurry guys! We don’t have all day.” 

“Okay! But…,” Malia walked to the center of the roof and prepared herself to jump for it, before looking over at Peter once again. “You jump right after me or I swear!” She gave him a glare, pointing an accusing finger at him for emphasis and smiled right after as he smirked and turned toward the door. She adjusted her bags at the sound of each forceful bang and sprinted forward upon hearing the roof’s door break open. She felt a wave of panic brush her as she leaped over the gap and hit the carrier floor with a thump. Throwing the bags she carried behind her, she grabbed onto the ledge and extended out her hand for Peter. 

Her hair whipped wildly across her face as she did, witnessing Peter keeping the Nova Cadets at bay with what she assumed was the shock blast he'd told her previously about. As he walked backward and slowly approached the roof’s ledge, Malia shouted, “Take my hand!” having him turn his head and retract his gun into their holders. The Nova’s on the ground would slowly pick themselves up with wobbled balance, giving him enough time to jump. She arched herself forward, using a nearby cargo belt to support her and felt her heart sink at the sight of Wayne emerging from the broken door. “Peter, get in here now!” She frantically screamed. 

Her eyes locked onto Wayne’s cold hues as Peter took a moment to see who she was petrified by and made a running start. He jumped, grabbing for Malia’s hand and attempted to push himself up. The ship began to move itself from the ledge however, sending him and Malia abruptly to one side as he still dangled over the carrier’s opening. Malia held onto his hand, gripping the cargo belt she had with the other and prayed for some wanted strength to pull Peter up while the ship moved. She tried her best not to panic. “Oh, Malia!” But, Wayne’s voice sent her nerves into a rattled state. Was he going to shoot them? Or just her? Sending Peter to his death. 

“Oh god, please!” She whispered, pulling with whatever strength she had left. The second Peter had one leg inside, she let go of the cargo belt and used both her hands to grip onto him and drag him inside. He fell on top of her with a hard thump and the carrier door automatically started to close itself. He rolled over quickly, laying on his back and breathed as Malia did the same. She started to giggle out of her jittery nerves and he joined her in unison. Sitting up after a moment of laughter, Malia reached for the bag she had thrown, opened it and showed him the 8,000 units she collected from the Collector. “Check this out!” She couldn’t forget about the necessary gloating.

Time seemed to fly by soon after their return to the ship. Tochi leaped into Peter’s arms once they stepped foot near the cockpit, leaving the aircraft on auto-pilot and expressed her worry for him then both of them as her eyes landed on Malia’s disheveled form. She offered to patch her up, but Malia declined, deciding it was best she get settled in first. She noted something went down between the two as Peter didn’t look Tochi much in the eye. “I’ll pick whatever room is empty enough,” She announced before making her way to the sleeping area. 

Everything from then on went relatively slow. Tochi stayed with them much to her surprise, the broadcasted messages of the Nova Corp in search for them not flattering her decision. Malia lounged around as she usually did when at home, getting used to whatever life she would have now. But, Tochi made the adjustment bearable. She taught her about the market places, shopping districts safe to use and even some alien slang to watch out for, all while Peter checked in on them with his corny one-liners or popped in out of pure curiosity. 

She still didn’t know what she would call her and Peter’s relationship with the months that passed and Tochi had noticed it. Their lingering stares, touches and body language. All which Malia denied, denied, denied. “Just admit that you like him. It’s fine! I won’t be angry.” Tochi’s words echoed into her mind as she recalled the conversation they had while cooking. In honesty she felt bad for even having the feelings she did with the bubbly cadet around. She'd grown to think of her as a sister and didn’t want to come in between what she herself felt for Peter. 

_ It wasn’t right.  _

_ “I don’t like him,” Malia stirred the sauce she made, wrinkling her nose in response to Tochi. “How many times am I going to have to say it?”  _

_ “Uh-huh. Sure,” Tochi giggled while she chopped some celery. “I told you it’s okay admit it." _

_ “I would, if I did.” Malia lied as she tasted a bit of her sauce and added a pinch of salt. “But, I don’t. He’s…,” She paused in thought, leaving the spoon hovering over her lips as the memory of him holding her when she had a nightmare came to mind. “He’s…,” She repeated, lowering her eyes. _

_ “Gorgeous? And you want to kiss him?” Tochi finished her sentence, nudging her side playfully. “C’mon. Just admit it.” _

_ “No! He’s an idiot.” Malia uttered back, regaining her composure. “You can have him. I don’t like him. Besides…,” She poured the finished sauce over the dried noodles they earlier had put to cool. “His record around here isn’t so squeaky clean. Downright disgusting if you ask me.”  _

_ Tochi shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “So? He’s been around. Means he has experience.” She bluntly stated, making Malia almost drop her pot on the floor. “What?” The cadet giggled with a blank expression. “It’s true.”  _

_ “And a red flag,” Malia added, shaking her head. “I don’t want to date a guy who's banged half of the galaxy.” She expressed, earning a look from the cadet who stopped peeling the potato in her hand and turned to face her.  _

_ “So, you have thought about dating him? With all this record talk…” She raised a brow with a cheeky grin placed on her lips and hummed provokingly as Malia threw the dish rag at her before laughing.  _

_ She felt her face get hot all of the sudden as she proceeded to deny it. “I’m serious!” She huffed.  _

_ “Just invite me to the wedding, okay?” _

Malia shook herself out of her own thoughts, Tochi’s words echoing in her head and drew her attention back to her current surroundings. She had almost forgotten where she was for a moment. But, at the blaring sound of Peter’s mix tapes playing across the ship, she remembered rather quickly. Closing the door to her room, she looked around the small private place she now called her bedroom. It wasn’t much, yet she decorated it with a few trinkets and posters she could find in the ‘Milano.’ What a dumb name. And made it as comfortable as possible. 

This was her life now and she slowly was getting accustomed to it. The suit she was given from The Collector allowed her to breathe in the dense atmosphere on planets she and Peter visited, creating a thin veil around her body. She didn’t know if the flamboyant museum owner had known of it’s perk, but she thanked him for it anyway. She smiled, recalling Peter’s face when she finally changed out of the Nova Uniform and into the fitted skin suit. It was priceless. “The idiot,” She mumbled to herself as laid down on her bed and turned to one side.

Her eyes locked on a doll he had given her or stole... he didn’t tell her which and extended her hand outward to brush over it’s hair. The doll reminded her of the creepy model from Coraline, style and all. She knew he didn’t know what she went on about when she mentioned the animated movie, always forgetting his time away from Earth impacted his knowledge on current things she sometimes rambled on about. Like binge-watching. She had so many shows to catch up on now. So many things. Malia slowly closed her eyes, humming along to the song that played and swayed her head to the beat. 

Space wasn’t as bad as she'd thought months ago. After all, this was her life now, until it was safe enough to return back home. That was... _if she didn’t want to stay_.


	12. Chapter 11 (pt. 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Settle in for a 3 parter chapter guys! I wrote this one during Christmas of last year, hence the events that will unfold here. You can see it as the real arc closing, before the adventure really begins. I hope you enjoy. Please, don't be shy and leave a comment :)

**Three months**. It had been three months since that fateful night when a pajama wearing, fork wielding girl had wandered onto Peter's ship and stabbed him. Now, all this time later, she was still a part of his life. Peter stared out at the silver clouds illuminated by the moonlight, hating every second of the quiet tranquility. Malia had really taken to the fugitive lifestyle pretty well. She and Tochi had hit it off well, something Peter still wasn't sure if he should be happy or concerned about. Didn't matter much since Tochi had split to check on some personal stuff. Peter thought it was partly because of him though.

He still wasn't sure what to make of him and Malia. That connection he felt was still there and had only gotten stronger in the last three months. He was glad to have her as a friend, which was why he hadn't made a move yet. His romantic track record was sh*t and he did not want Malia added to his list of failures. Sure, he'd flirted with her here and there, but that was just flirting. And they still argued now and again. Her latest target of disdain being his beard he'd been letting grow out.

Besides, he was pretty sure his drunk self had gotten all those emotions out on the mix tape he'd apparently made. Peter had found the 'Malia Mix' among a bunch of empty bottles in his room, and upon listening to it decided it must never be heard by anyone, especially not her. He kept it on him at all times so it wasn't found laying around. Damn drunk him making mix tapes and sh*t.

He glanced at his messages, noting to himself to delete the plentiful angry Ines from Rocket. He'd told Rocket he'd get in touch after he got Malia home, to which he got the response 'who or what the hell is a Malia?'. Aside from that there was a message from Tony Stark berating him for not showing up to their annual meet and drink and outright telling him he was attending his Christmas party. Peter figured he'd pop in while he was here, thinking he may need some cheering up soon. 

The ship descended out of the cloud cover and into a peaceful shower of snow. Far below Peter could see the city of New York, practically alive with light. It was a sight he'd been dreading for a while. He was happy for Malia, but knew her getting home meant he'd be alone again, and he didn't like him alone. He'd already purposefully stalled their progress a few times, a fact he wasn't proud of in the least. Peter shook away the thoughts before turning on the ship's intercom. "Oh, roomy," He said it in a sing-song voice she knew she hated. "got something up here you might want to see."

“Ugh!” Malia lifted herself from her bed at the sound of Peter’s voice and tied up her hair in a high bun as she made her way out the door. “What is it now?” She groaned, not in the mood for one of his pranks again. It got him slapped last time and if she needed to resort to kicking him where the sun didn’t shine to make him stop, she’d do it. Yes, she snuck into his room in the earliest time possible and woke him up with a cold splash of water to the face, put large amounts of salt in his food and replaced his alcohol with spoiled alien juice. But, he deserved it. Still, their pranking war had escalated rather quickly and she had just about had enough already. 

Upon entering the cockpit with narrowed eyes directly on him, Malia folded her arms across her chest and cautiously approached him. “What?” She said between gritted teeth as her eyes slowly glided over to the ship’s windshield and froze in place. She felt her breath hitch back into her throat and stomach drop. It was New York. As the snow particles slowly danced away from the window, she took in the familiar view of the City’s glittering lights below them. “Oh. My. God!” She gave Peter a quick glance, unable to contain the smile from her face or joy and pushed him playfully. She was back home. After all this time. 

But, why?

“We can’t land on my roof again,” Malia found herself joking, still beaming with the unexpected flow of happiness that surged through her at the moment. She almost immediately had forgotten about their prank war, his stupid beard and living arrangements at the sight of New York. She extended her hand forward to touch the windshield from where she stood and slowly pressed her face against the glass. She did want to know if he had planned this however. The Nova’s hadn’t really given up their search for them. If anything they enhanced it. So, why were they on Earth? Did he really come to drop her off and leave?

She shook her thoughts away and turned toward Peter, not letting her lingering questions deter her from being back home again. She’d take it in stride and definitely ask him about it later. “But we do need to stop at my place. I can get some clothes and normal food, my ipad—,” Malia expressed out loud, counting all the material’s she listed on each finger. She was so in her own world, minutes later she noticed how silent Peter was. Too silent for the idiot she had grown to know. Stopping in her tracks as she counted showering supplies, she raised a brow. “Is everything okay in that perverted head of yours?”

Peter turned off the outside lights of the ship so as not to draw attention. He looked at Malia and gave a shrug. "Of course. You know I'm al... "

Malia held up a hand to cut him off. "Always okay, right." She eyed him suspiciously as they continued their descent. "Where are we going to land? Unless you just crash on roofs every time you come here that is."

Peter smirked while his eyes scanned the city for a particularly obnoxious building. "I only do that to meet women. Apparently if you crash on a roof they literally just show up on board. They're a pain to get rid of though."

Malia laughed and told him to 'shut up' before returning her attention to the city below. Peter watched how she looked at the city and was glad he'd finally gotten her here. At least returning to earth felt like going home for her like it never did for him. Peter caught sight of the tower with the neon 'A' insignia, a near blinding beacon. Tony had a hangar full of his jets near the top of the structure that he let Peter use when he came by. The staff was usually told to be discreet about letting Peter in since both he and Tony usually caught sh*t when he was here for their meet and drink. Malia furrowed her brow as she noticed where they were heading. "Why are we going there?"

Peter put the ship in the auto landing sequence Rocket had programmed for it and stood up from his seat. "I know the owner."

Malia watched him in silence as he started down the ladder to the deck below. "Are...are you serious?"

Peter hit the ground, raising his voice to answer from below. "Hell yeah, I'm serious." 

He grabbed his leather trench coat and scarf as Malia started down the ladder. She shot him a dirty look when she noticed him watching her decently intently. "Eyes front."

Peter chuckled as he averted his gaze and started towards the cargo door. "You should grab my jacket. I imagine your suit will draw more attention then you care to get."

Malia did so, slipping the garment over her shoulders as she followed him. "Are you going to tell me how in the hell you know an Avenger?"

Peter shrugged as they reached the door and he pressed the button. "I just do, it's not a big deal. There's actually a picture of us in the jacket pocket."

Malia reached into the left pocket of the jacket, then immediately jerked her newly slime covered hand out with a shriek. "What the hell?!"

Peter broke out into a laugh so hard he was afraid he'd lose consciousness. He put a hand on the wall for support as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "You didn't think the war was over, did you?"

Malia slugged him in the arm with her slimy hand. "You ass!"

Peter held up a hand in defense. "Oh, you love it. You'll get me back I'm sure."

His laughter faded as he realized she wouldn't be around to get him back. He watched her as she tried not to smile and wiped her hand on any surface thought she thought would help. He'd known it'd been coming, but that wouldn't make her departure any easier. The alcohol would though. 

Peter stepped off the ship and into the spacious hangar. He made his way towards the hangar door and looked out at the city, stopping to stand and look at it. The top floor of Stark tower was where Tony's party was going to be held. Knowing him, it was being set up as early as today. "Hey, why the rush?"

Peter looked back at Malia as she caught up with him. 'Because I want to rip the bandaid off and get straight to getting through another goodbye' he thought. "No rush." He mustered up a smile. 'Then again, I could stall a bit longer' he thought. "Hey, you wanna meet an Avenger?"

Malia took a moment to register Peter’s words, feeling herself smile from ear to ear in response as they sunk in. “Hell-Yeah!” She felt a surge of excitement course through her, followed by a wave of giddiness that lingered over. ‘Who wouldn’t want to meet an Avenger?’ She thought. She’d seen them all the time on TV, even Iron Man — once flying over the Diner she worked or used to work for. Meeting one would be a lifetime experience! Even if she wasn’t technically dressed for the occasion. Malia whipped her head up to look at Peter as she locked her arms around his. “Is it Thor?” She asked, earning a slow drawled out, ‘no,’ from him to which she waved off. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” 

“But, if it is—!” She warned abruptly. “I’m getting you back twice as much.” She added with gusto, leaning into him for warmth and cover as an unexpected breeze of cold air hit them, causing her to groan. Much to her surprise it was actually snowing in December for once and had the actual weather to match. “Let’s just get inside, please.” She heard herself say, quickening her step toward the huge glass doors across the hangar. Even with Peter’s crappy jacket draped over her figure, she could feel the chill start to prickle her skin. ‘Let it be Thor,’ Malia whispered under her breath as her and Peter reached the pristine doors of the Avengers Tower. 

She hid herself as best she could behind him, still keeping hold of his arm as they slowly entered the large Christmas decorated room and let out a gasp. She completely ignored the fact no one was there to greet them, being instantly mesmerized by what was around her. She’d never seen a room so humongous before. It even had another visible floor just a few feet away. The decorations scattered about made everything look overly expensive and delicate. She didn’t even want to bump into anything with the fear of having to pay for whatever she accidentally broke. It’d probably take her an eternity to pay off. But, it was simply too beautiful to not gawk over.

“Definitely not Thor then,” Malia mumbled in a disappointed tone, squeezing Peter’s forearm at the sight of the glowing Christmas Tree centered on the level below. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head. “My god, how rich are the Avengers?” She wondered out loud, going close to the glass banister that overlooked the ceiling touching Tree. The thing was freaking huge and not to mention, decorated like everything else in the room from top to bottom with small papers tied to red ribbons, left hanging from the branches. She leaned in a bit, out of curiosity and squinted her brown eyes, catching various names written on the tiny strips. 

“You know, you guys should’ve knocked. Friday, tell them why—!” An unfamiliar voice boomed unexpectedly, causing Malia to jump and turn her attention quickly around. Entering the room, with a drink in his hand, was no other than Tony Stark himself. The Tony Stark she’d seen plastered on Forbes TOP Billionaires list among other things. He casually stopped in front of her, giving Peter a side glance and lifted a finger. “It’s not all the Avengers by the way. Just me.” He pointed aimlessly around the room. “I pay for things around here. Price I pay for being such a good damn billionaire, philanthropist. And oh-Iron Man.” He took a sip of his drink with a smirk plastered across his lips.

“Now, Peter. Why didn’t you tell you were bringing this beautiful young lady?”

Peter chuckled, happy to see Tony hadn't changed. "Tony, this is Malia."

Tony nodded his acknowledgements, looking back and forth between the two. "A new addition to the team?"

Peter shook his head. "No, there's no team."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Still? You must have really done something bad this time." Peter shifted uncomfortably. "But, who hasn't? I'm just going to assume you want a drink and am going to turn around and start walking towards the bar."

Tony turned on his heel and made his way towards a glass doorway. Peter glanced at Malia who was still taking it all in. "Tony doesn't skimp on Christmas."

Malia shook her head. "No... no he does not."

The glass doors opened automatically to let Tony in. This room looked like a lobby, but with nicer furniture than a lobby would ever need. Sofas and tables, all decorated with some Christmas flair, sat arranged in an immaculate manner. Tony positioned himself behind a bar that stood against a wall next to a window that overlooked the city. He started pulling bottles off of the well stocked shelves behind him. "You're early, Peter."

Peter nodded, glancing at Malia with the thought of her departure at the forefront. "Had something to take care of."

Tony poured straight whiskey into a glass and slid it towards Peter. "Fair enough. Drink of choice?"

Malia looked up, a bit bewildered by the question. "Oh, I'm fine."

Tony took a sip of his own drink. "You sure? People dating Peter typically need a drink."

Peter felt his discomfort rise immediately. "We're not together, well, not like that. We see a lot of each other, but we aren't..."

A sharp elbow from Malia interrupted him. "Shut up, idiot."

Tony studied the pair for a few seconds. "My mistake. I just assumed since she was wearing your jacket and the way she's holding onto your arm like you're going to prom, not to mention the meaningful and frankly adorable glances you give each other when the other isn't looking, but that's probably just me seeing something where there's nothing. Right?"

Malia slowly let go of Peter's arm and put a little bit of space between them while Peter started on his drink and changed the subject. "So, how's Earth been?"

Tony stared for a moment, debating whether or not to let his line of questioning go. "Frustratingly in constant need of protection. And space?"

Peter glanced out the window. "Dark and filled with weird sh*t."

Tony nodded, looking over the bottles on the bar before him. "Not much changes."

Peter shook his head, putting his elbows on the bar. "Guess not. What about you? Everything going okay for the great Tony Stark?"

Tony opened a bottle and topped off his own drink. "I'm always okay, so yes."

Malia looked between the two at the utterance of the familiar phrase as Peter took a gulp of his drink. "Of course."

Tony turned his attention once again to Malia. "So, what corner of the galaxy did Peter find you in?"

Malia looked out the window for a few moments before pointing out at the city. "About right over there."

Tony furrowed his brow. "You're from Earth. What, not enough pretty alien girls in space? You had to come and take ours, Peter? Well, now I have to ask how you two met."

Malia pointed at Peter with a smirk on her face. "The idiot here crashed his spaceship into my apartment building."

Tony nodded, unphased by the explanation. "Typical boy meets a girl story, really. So you just hopped aboard and took off?"

Malia put a hand on the bar and laughed. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

Tony held up a hand. "Say no more. So, now you're back from your little trek. That is for your space faring days?"

Malia looked to Peter who only continued to silently drink. Of course it was. He'd gotten her back to earth, just like he'd said he would. And now he'd leave her to live her life because he had no right to do anything else. He wouldn't like it, not in the least, but it'd be unfair of him to ask her to stick around just because he'd miss having her around. Malia looked back at Tony and smiled. "So, what do the Avengers do for Christmas?"

Tony blinked, looking between the two before shrugging off the change in subject. "Cap probably waits for Santa like the good little boy he is, and I bet Thor has some hard to pronounce substitute for it, but me-" Tony gestured to himself with more grandeur than was necessary. "-I throw the greatest Christmas party in this hemisphere, and probably the world." He pointed at Peter. "Did the bum not tell you about it?"

Peter furrowed his brow. "Bum?"

Tony nodded, gesturing to his own face. "It's the beard, makes you look like a space hobo."

Malia pointed at Tony. "See! It's not just me. And no, he neglected to bring it up."

Tony shrugged. "Well, you're welcome to come. The more the merrier."

Peter groaned internally as Malia enthusiastically accepted the invitation. It wasn't that he wanted to get rid of her, just that he knew the longer she hung around the more unpleasant doing so was going to be. He'd had enough hard goodbyes and he'd planned on drinking through this one at the party, but now that plan was shot. Peter gulped down his drink and poured another. Malia looked at him and cocked her head. "You're still being weirdly quiet, Star-Dumb."

Peter looked up from his drink and shrugged. "I'm fine."

Both Tony and Malia eyed him suspiciously and spoke in unison. "Really?"

Tony pointed at Malia. "Don't do that again, it's weird."

Peter chuckled. "Really. I'm fine." He tried to think up an adequate lie. "It's just weird being on earth again is all."

Malia nodded, but Tony only continued to stare at him. He wouldn't be so easily fooled. Tony thankfully returned his attention to Malia after a few seconds. "Are you sure I can't get you a drink seeing as how he's on his... fifth?" Peter shrugged, not counting himself. "Or anything else? I can have Happy drive you to your place if you're itching to get home."

Malia took a moment to think over Tony's generous offer. On one hand, she did want to pick up some essentials to take back with her, but on the other she didn't want to deal with the possibility of running into her nosy neighbors or actually leaving the Avengers Tower. At least not for the night anyway. She took a seat on one of the bar stools across from Peter and shook her head slowly. "That's okay. I can always go tomorrow." She pointed out, seeing Tony flash her a smile of approval and pour himself another drink she assumed was his second. 

"Besides," She started to add in. "Someone has watched over you two." She clarified, knowing full well a drinking war would ensue in a matter of minutes, leaving her eventually the only sober one with senses. Tony was a well documented drinker, even alcoholic, she was sure, at one point in time and Peter? Malia glanced over at him. Well, he was too? She never asked how his half-humanness worked, but always assumed with the way he drank sometimes that alcohol took a while to affect him. Things certainly were going to get interesting with these two.

“So, Pete—!” She heard Tony begin to say as she cautiously made her way around the bar to grab a coke and a glass of ice in between the conversation he and Peter became indulged in. Something about, ‘Guardians.’ She honestly was completely out of the loop, but tuned into it regardless, finding a piece of paper along the way to jot down a grocery list. Cooking with weird alien ingredients wasn’t as easy as Tochi made it look. So, a month's supply of almost everything from Earth would do them some good. Like, “Bread, Seasoning, Meat…” Malia mumbled to herself, feeling a pair of eyes on her. 

She looked up with an unexpected smile gracing her lips to lock onto Peter’s gaze. She was really starting to get worried about him at this point. He seemed different ever since they landed. She was sure Tony had taken notice of it too. “Um,” She found herself mumbling as she tried to avert his stare. Folding the paper she held in half, for some sort of minimal distraction, she glanced over again at him to see him back in conversation with Tony. Something was wrong and she felt it. Racking her brain over it for the next hours that passed, Malia finally decided on asking him up front. 

“This is where you say 'yes'...” Tony’s slurred words brought her back to reality. “And I say 'welcome to the Avengers, Peter!” He continued with laughter. Both he and Peter were slumped over the bar, drinks in hand — red faced from too much alcohol consumption. She sighed at the sight of the two of them drunk off their asses and stood up from the stool. “Alright, boys!” She announced abruptly, grabbing their sluggish attention. “Time for bed.” She clapped her hands loudly enough for emphasis and made her way toward Peter. She’d get him to bed and leave their conversation for some other time.

Tony looked up from his drink, chuckling at the order. "Is she always so commanding?"

Peter kept his head laid on the bar as he answered. "Pretty much."

Tony stood up, taking a few seconds to make sure he wouldn't fall over. "F... fine. If you want him all to y-yourself, I'll go." He reached for a bottle, knocking over the rest as he did. "I'm taking this though."

Peter raised his head slightly to look around. As with most times it's happened, he hadn't intended to get completely railed. He should've expected it though as it was he and Tony's usual course of action when they were together. Malia covertly slid all the bottles out of his reach as he slowly sat upright. "See ya, Tony."

Tony waved as he walked out of the room on wobbly legs. "Tomorrow. Be there, or I'll tell the mean green haired lady you're around."

Peter laughed, nearly falling off of his stool. He regained his balance, looking at Malia through the fog. "Hi."

Malia gave a small smile. "Hi. Can you make it back to the ship?"

Peter turned on his stool to look at the couches in the room. "Why do I need to?" He stood up, stumbling forward immediately. Malia slowed his fall as best she could, wrapping one arm around his back and putting her other hand on his chest. All of his conflicting thoughts about her continued to plague his mind, but now with the added 'assistance' of alcohol. He placed a hand on the back of the nearest couch, trying to sort his head out. Her staying on Earth was best for her, of course it was. Right? "You know, Novas aren't likely gonna come after you on earth." It was more for his own convincing then hers. "I doubt Wayne would start sh*t here. There's like... a lot of people guarding the place." He looked up to see her watching him, a mixture of curiosity and concern in her face. "How's the whole..." Peter gestured to his skull. "the whole brain thing?"

“It-It’s fine.” Malia furrowed her brows in response to Peter’s odd question and turned to look in the direction Tony had sloppily walked off in. “But, you certainly aren't not making it better.” She chimed, wondering if any guest rooms were near to drag him to. Making it back to the ship was officially out of the question. In the drunken state he was in — that wasn’t going to work out so well. “And, I’m sure Wayne will figure out a way to get here,” She drew her head back, not wanting to stay on the subject for too long and bluntly spat, “Guardians or not on Earth.” She didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking, but that statement felt off. 

“Now, let’s at least try to get you to a room, okay?” Malia adjusted her footing carefully enough not to unbalance Peter more than he already was, and secured her arm firmly behind his back before moving to take a step forward. “You know,” She hummed as she slowly guided him toward the hall. “You’ve been acting kinda really weird ever since we landed.” She noted, figuring getting that off her chest wouldn’t hurt. ‘He wouldn’t even remember it tomorrow, right?’ She sighed in thought and shrieked from the sudden weight that almost toppled her over. “Peter!” She pushed herself forward, automatically putting her hands on his chest and attempted to balance him. 

“Don’t make me slap you sober.” She hissed, ready to do just about that.

Peter balanced himself with Malia's help and looked down at her. "I'm not acting 'weird', I'm acting perfectly or... " He lost his train of thought as Malia looked up to meet his eyes. It was dead quiet in this part of the building, making it feel like they were the only two in existence at this moment. "Normal is my name."

Malia furrowed her brow. "Last I checked, Star-Lord is not a normal name."

Peter sighed, his head tipping forward as though he'd nodded off. "Why... Why always the name? Pick something that means less to me to go after, will ya?" He looked off to the side, his drunk mind now wandering to the origin of his mantle. Not a place he wanted to go in this state, that was for sure. He wiped at his eyes before looking back at Malia. "Eh, even my team used to make fun of it, so whatever." The Guardians was somewhere he wanted his head to go to even less. Why his brain insisted on going to these places when he drank was beyond him, but he hated it for doing so. Peter got distracted momentarily from his thoughts as he looked at Malia's hair. "What happened to your hair? When did you get it cut? Why would you cut it? It was so... pretty." He started to panic over this miniscule thing until he saw the bun she had tied her hair back into. "Oh, thank God."

Malia tried to get him to move. "Come on, Peter. Time for bed."

Peter glanced down at her hands still on his chest and instinctively put his on her waist. "Are we dancing?"

“No. We’re not dancing…,” Malia clarified for him, attempting to move again to no avail. “—Peter!” She groaned in a sort of huff as she involuntarily was swayed to her right then twirled and brought back into his arms. “Okay. We’re dancing.” She acknowledged out loud, trying her best not to smile directly at him. She hated to admit it, but she was enjoying the random turn of events. ‘I can’t believe this,’ She voiced to herself, starting to hum a tune from a musical she’d once seen. At least she could take advantage of the situation. Slowly directing Peter’s drunken-self into the hallway littered with doors, Malia stopped amidst the first one she came across.

“Hopefully, this is a guest room.” She pushed the button near the door and peeked inside the dark room before light emitted automatically upon her entering. “Yes!” She breathed in relief, seeing a bed and simple guest essentials scattered around. “Alright, Peter. Let’s um…,” She turned around to face him and struggled to find the appropriate way to say, ‘take off your clothes,’ without it sounding suggestive. Malia bit her bottom lip, feeling her cheeks start to get hot and waved a dismissive hand. Whatever, he’d just have to sleep in his clothes then! “Your shoes. Let’s start with those—,” Her words completely fell off as she drew her attention back and caught sight of Peter, already half naked, struggling to unbuckle his pants. 

“Wah in the world!?” She instantly blurted out, causing him to jump from surprise and fall over. She shut her eyes before he hit the ground with a thump and felt her heart increase in speed. Maybe she should’ve taken Tony’s offer after all and gone to her apartment. 

“Why are you yelling!?” Peter’s slurred words reached her burning ears as she opened her eyes back up and sighed heavily at the pitiful sight that unfolded in front of her. He was trying to sloppily climb into the bed, failing quite miserably with each attempt. As she was about to scold him like a parent would a child, he groaned loudly, getting the needed push to throw himself onto the mattress and flop around. “So many pillows!” 

Malia ducked in the nick of time as a pillow Peter threw in her direction sailed by, and used her hands to shield the rest. There were too many mini-pillows. “Geez.” Stifling in a laugh, she noticed why he couldn’t get his pants off. Besides the belt, his shoes were still on. “You're an idiot, even when drunk.” She expressed, hearing him acknowledge her statement with a ‘huh?’ She rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath and sat at the edge of the bed to unlace his boots. “After this, I’m getting you some coffee...” She announced, “You’ll drink it and then go to sleep or I’ll make you.” She added, making sure her tone of voice held some warning.

Peter buried his face in the one remaining pillow, keeping one eye on Malia as she stood to leave. The room spun around him like a vortex that felt like it was swallowing him slowly. Malia reached the door, glancing back and shaking her head. A small smile crossed Peter's lips, but soon faded. "Do- do you have to go?"

Malia gestured around the room. "The coffee sure isn't in here."

Peter's gaze wandered around the room, taking in his surroundings through a hazy filter. That's not what he'd meant by the question, but he was steadily fading out and didn't want to start a whole thing. His brain just registered something she'd said a bit ago. "Do you really think I'm an idiot?"

Malia folded her arms across her chest and leaned on the doorframe, throwing up her eyebrows. "Do you really want an answer to that?"

Peter chuckled, rolling over onto his back. "Nah, I already know the answer." He looked up at the ceiling, waving his hands and speaking in a mocking tone. "Hey, there's goofball, idiot Star-Lord. He can't do anything right because he... he doesn't give a sh*t." Peter rubbed his hands over his face. "I do give a sh*t, I just... " His voice trailed along with his thoughts as he glanced at Malia. "I don't need that coffee."

Malia let her hands drop to her side, nodding slowly. "Okay, good night."

Peter held up a hand as she turned to leave. "Don't. I mean... "

Peter fell silent, opting not to embarrass himself any further. Malia glanced around the room uncomfortably. "You want me to stay?"

Peter smirked, rolling over to face away from her. "If you want, you're a grown up."

He started to drift off when he felt the weight on the bed shift. Peter glanced over his shoulder to see Malia sitting on the edge of the bed. She held up a finger. "Only until you're asleep, and don't even think about trying anything."

Peter returned to staring at the wall. "Thanks."

Malia sighed. "Don't mention it... to anyone... ever."

Peter chuckled. "Understood."

He'd almost forgotten about her departure in the haze, but now it's started up all over again. All he had to do was ignore it until he passed out, that's all. "I think you give a sh*t."

Peter opened his eyes. "What?"

Malia shifted behind him. "You give a sh*t. I mean, you gave enough of one to get me home when you really had no reason to. People who don't care don't do that."

Peter shrugged. "I guess." He shook his head as he thought about all the delays he'd caused, another bit more guilt thrown onto the pile. "Didn't even really do that right."

"How? I'm here, aren't I?"

Peter tried to stop himself, but at this point his filter was all but gone. "I... I may have slowed the trip back a bit."

It got eerily quiet for a few seconds. "What?"

Peter winced, knowing he shouldn't have said that even with the alcohol. There was no getting out of it now though. He slowly sat up, still facing away from Malia and unable to look back at her. "There may have been a few stops that weren't... needed." His eyes blinked slowly as he kept them straight ahead. "I could've gotten you here a month ago, and I didn't."

“You have to be f*ckin kidding me!” Malia leaped off the edge of the bed as Peter’s words registered through her mind. ‘What!?’ She stood in utter disbelief beside the mattress, trying to keep the level of anger she felt at bay. She didn’t understand him sometimes! “Okay. But, what about the Novas?” How could he have gotten her home with the Corp still on their tail? She clenched and unclenched her fists, knitting her eyebrows in confusion. “It’s not making any sense.” Malia shook her head, beginning to think the alcohol was causing him to word-vomit like most drunk people did. 

“And if you did—!” She paused to emphasis the ‘if,’ with imaginary air quotes. “Why?” She slowly continued between a heavy sigh. She wasn’t sure if Peter would even answer her question sincerely, but she wanted to know. If there was a chance he wanted her to stay in space and was too proud to admit, she wanted to hear him say it. She had grown accustomed to her time in space with him and planned on very well staying — the grocery list being proof of it. So, if he was willing to just tell her, she’d forget about him not taking the chance to get her home.

Malia approached the side of the bed and called out to Peter, whose back was still faced to her. “Can you please look at me? You idiot.” She hesitantly sat herself down on the mattress with folded arms and glanced over her shoulder to see if he had shifted his attention from the wall. Noticing he hadn’t, she turned herself around to look at him and leaned in. “Peter!?” She purposely yelled, causing him to flinch and cover his ears. “Are you even listening to me?” She wondered, feeling the anger she felt earlier start to kick back in. She really should’ve left when Tony had given her the opportunity. Why did she even bother?

Peter listened to everything intently as unconsciousness crept over him. He was so close to just spilling everything right then and there. 'I don't want to be alone again, I don't want to see another friend go, I like you a lot and your eyes are SO PRETTY'. But, his last shred of intelligence kept him from talking. He really had no right to put himself in between her and home. So, keeping his mouth shut was for the best, right? Hell if he knew at this point with every little thing bubbling to the surface at the same time. It was moments like this that made him have second thoughts about touching booze ever again. 

Peter felt himself start to fall to the side, unable to stop himself. He winced as his head collided with the headboard instead of the last lone pillow. The bed shifted and Malia said something. He'd already drifted off far enough so that it didn't register, but not far enough so that he didn't hear the harsh tone. "Sorry," It had barely been a whisper of a response, and the sound of the door slamming shut had more than drowned it out. In those last few seconds of consciousness, Peter felt more alone then he ever had in his life. 

When Peter opened his eyes, the light assaulting him with everything it had. His head throbbed as he slowly sat up, groaning the whole way. He didn't recognize his surroundings at first, but the memory slowly came back. Well, a little of it. He remembered getting to Avengers tower and drinking with Tony, but everything else was blank. Peter stood and took a step forward, immediately tripping and falling forward onto the floor. "Dammit!" He looked back to see what had caused his accident and found that his pants were around his ankles. The rest of his clothes were scattered around the room. He shakily got to his feet and shuffled out into the hall, pants still at his feet. 

He looked around at his luxurious surroundings, getting an odd look from an employee as they rushed past. "Peter. Welcome back to the land of the living."

Peter turned around to see Tony dressed in a sharp suit and looking no worse for wear. "Oh, of course the perfect Tony Stark doesn't get hangovers."

Tony unscrewed the cap of the bottle in his hand and held it out to Peter. "Oh, I do, but when you've had as many as I have you find ways. Here."

Peter took the bottle, eyeing it warily. "What is it?"

Tony shrugged. "Old college recipe, used to drink it before morning exams. It'll do you good."

Peter took a swig and nearly spat it all back up. He managed to swallow, but not without some violent coughing and colorful language. "That's awful!"

Tony chuckled. "I said it'd do you good, not that it was good."

Peter smirked as he bent down and pulled his pants up. He looked around as he buckled his belt. "Have you seen Malia?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah, took me up on that ride a while after I left you two at the bar."

Peter furrowed his brow. "She says where?"

Tony shook his head. "Nope. I was far too drunk and it was far too late to be asking a girl that angry questions."

Peter paused. "Angry?" His mind scrambled to try and find memories, but found none. Why would she be angry? A thought hit him and he immediately felt his stomach drop. His lack of memories, his clothes scattered everywhere, Malia being upset. "Oh, sh*t!"

Tony raised a brow. "What?"

Peter looked at Tony with panic written on his face. "I think I did something really stupid."

Tony stared at him for a few seconds before a smile crossed his lips. "Friday, clear my schedule. Something far more entertaining just came up."

* * *

_“He’s an idiot!”_ Malia looked up from the grocery list in her hand, having found the item she had written down and paused in her conversation with Happy to throw the can into the cart he pushed. “Like, if you had the chance to fess up, no repercussions, wouldn’t you take it?” She proceeded to ask him, the situation from the night before still fresh in her mind. “I just don’t get him sometimes. And I at least try to...you know?” She grumbled as she continued to walk down the aisle and look for the rest of the items on her list — glad she had taken Tony’s offer after all and gotten Happy to help out. She definitely needed the space, a breather for a while.

She was so angry at Peter’s childish behavior she practically ran out of the Avengers Tower in the middle of the night, wanting to stay far away from him. It’s not like she was asking him a deeply personal question that he needed time to think about. She just wanted a simple, ‘why?’ And he couldn’t even give her that! Instead, deliberately, he knocked himself out to avoid it. Just recalling the events made her blood boil. Venting about it with someone certainly helped her calm down a bit. After crashing in her Apartment with Happy reluctantly on her couch, she decided to shop for the trip ahead the next day. 

Pulling herself from her own thoughts at the sound of a customer trying to get by, Malia moved onto the next aisle as Happy’s voice entered her ears. “Well, if it were me, being an honest guy and all, I’d tell ya. But,” She heard him start to say then stop in his answer to move himself and the cart over as a woman attempted to squeeze herself unapologetically between them. “Not every guy is the same. Quill seems a bit more — uh, special, than most.” He finished off, checking his phone for any missed messages or ‘urgent,’ Stark calls. “But, I’m sure you guys will figure out this lovers quarrel in no time.” 

“Lovers quarrel? No. We’re not together.” Malia clarified rather quickly with a shaking head. Why did everyone just assume they were together? She crossed out the items she had gotten from her grocery list, irritatedly, and counted the remaining ones she still needed. “That idiot is lucky I consider us friends,” She hissed out, earning an amused chuckle from Happy who followed her as she stalked off into the produce section. With four more items harshly thrown into the cart, both of them soon weaved into the shortest line they could spot and waited. “Do we...Do we look like a couple that much? Be honest, Happy.” Malia allowed her curiosity to take flight.

“You want me to be honest?” He asked skeptically before continuing. “Yeah. You do.” 

“Well, I don’t. And we’re not.” She turned to throw him an unexpected glare. “So, that’s all that matters.”

He threw up his hands in defense. “Okay. If you say so.” 

“I do.” Malia whipped her attention back around as soon as the Cashier drew out a, ‘next,’ and began to place the items in her cart on the electrical belt. When Happy made his way around to gather the bags, she paid the total — with Tony’s Credit Card, before walking out. From there, the ride back to the Avenger’s Tower was pretty silent to say the least until she apologized to Happy for her sudden attitude out of guilt and promised to make it up to him by offering her help around the Tower. She was sure he’d need it today with the Christmas Party. So, she asked till he caved in. 

Once everything she bought was shuffled into the Milano without Peter’s presence around, Malia made her way to Happy, who yelled at the caterers on the floor over napkins. She stifled in her laughter, then approached the trusted bodyguard and personal chauffeur. He turned the minute he acknowledged her next to him and clasped his hands together. “Alright. Now, I don’t usually have assistants.” He expressed with an annoyed sigh. “Last one was a freakin’ disaster. But, since I think you are competent enough, I’m trusting you here.” 

Malia slowly nodded her head, feeling a bit of pressure from his words. “What do you need me to do?” She flatly uttered, her brown eyes scanning the large room for any possible options. 

“I’m going to need you to go over this Guest List,” Happy sauntered over to grab a stacked clipboard from a nearby table and held it up to her face. “And double check every single person who is coming to give to the doorman by three.” 

“Got it.” 

“Then after that, please for the love of the mother of god,” He lifted his attention and hands up to the ceiling. “— Help these idiots fold these napkins will ya?” 

Malia took the clipboard as it was handed to her and gave Happy another nod of understanding, before going off to an empty table to start checking off names. She lifted her head up from time to time to take in the dozen caterers and decorators running around the room like madmen and chuckled. She could’ve sworn she caught sight of Peter in one instant, but completely ignored it, wanting to avoid him for the rest of day and possibly night if she could. “Idiot,” She grumbled to herself at the thought of him and double checked the guest list of celebrities, journalists and heroes before confidently handing it over to the doorman for the event. 

Malia continued over to her second task with a smile plastered on her face and entered the circle of carters who folded quickly the red napkins that were to be placed on the tables. “Right, Fold, Right, Repeat,” One of them instructed, showing her the technique twice before moving on to collect the ones that were already done. She quietly did her work, letting her mind wander off. She almost automatically thought of Peter. Having hours pass by without a single pop in from him made her curious to know what he was up to. Had he gone to the Milano and found her stuff? Taken it out and left her like the idiot he is? She paused in her thinking as Happy entered the room.

He looked around with an amused expression lodged across his face. “Now that’s more like it!” He boomed, approaching her as soon as he signed off on a package a worker had taken to him. “Nicely done. I knew I could trust you.” Happy flashed her a genuine smile and lifted his hand to point down the hall. “Now, your dress just arrived. Courtesy of Mr. Stark, of course.” He expressed, maneuvering her in the direction gingerly. “You wanna go to the second door on your right, get ready and be down by let’s say…,” He turned over his hand to glance at his watch. “Eight, Eight-thirty. Around that time. Not too early.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” Malia took a moment to process what Happy had told her, trying to wrap her head around Tony buying her an expensive dress. “I could’ve just gotten one from home?” She unexpectedly said, feeling the need to express her concern over it. Sure she’d look lesser then, but she didn’t like the thought of having someone buying her something worth a lot of money, feeling she couldn’t pay them back for it.

“Nonsense. Stark has money to burn, bathe in and some. Trust me. Now, go. Chop, Chop.” Happy gave her a gentle push forward and returned his attention over to the engineers on the floor. She raised a hand as he stalked off, then dropped it back at it’s side, wanting to ask him about Peter. With a heavy sigh, she went on to follow his exact directions and counted to doors from her right, the minute she reached the busy hall. Entering the room, cautiously, she felt her eyes pop at the sight of the hanging dress, make-up kit and accessories. 

“This is all too much,” She mumbled in an almost whisper as she approached the edge of the bed and ran her fingers over the selection of jewelry laid out for her to pick from. “Tony is too much.” She soon added with laughter. ‘He really was,’ She thought to herself, looking over at the red-blood dress that simply captivated her. She had to admit whoever picked it out certainly had an eye for fashion. She loved it. Heading into the connecting bathroom after a minute of gawking over the items, Malia took a cleansing shower, keeping track of time and stepped out thirty-minutes before eight. 

“Alright. Make-up...No! Dress first.” She fought over which to do, opting for her makeup to avoid staining her dress and sat down in front of the mirror in the room. She kept everything simple with a bit of blush, black eyeliner and dark lipstick then slipped into the red number carefully. “It’s a crop-top dress?” She let out, seeing a tiny bit of her midriff show from the sides and front. She adjusted the dress, aligning it in the right places and proceeded to do her hair, pinning it to one side. Looking herself over in the mirror, Malia stunned herself. She never looked so fancy. 

At the sign of the digital clock reading eight-forty five, she stood from the bed with fidgety hands. She walked to the door and exhaled deeply, bracing herself for whatever was outside the door. She could already hear the low hum of music not far off. “I can do this.” She repeated to herself, under her breath as she took a step out into the hall and made her way to the grand Party. She gave her name to the doorman outside the entrance, feeling her stomach start to do flips and tricks the minute he checked her off the list and opened the door for her. “T-thank You” She managed to squeak, before freezing completely at the sight of the spectacle before her. 

_Maybe she couldn’t do this._


	13. Chapter 11 (pt. 2)

Peter poured himself a drink, something far lighter than usual after last night's little excursion. If he didn't already feel out of place being on earth, this place would do the trick. He turned away from the bar and looked over the gathering of people, every one of them dressed in suits and dresses. Peter looked down at his black cargo pants, boots and T-shirt that had the image of a suit printed on the front. Tony had neglected to mention a dress code. The place had been decorated even more since he and Malia had arrived last night. It looked like Saint Nick himself had come through and puked the spirit of Christmas all over the place. 

Tony didn't play around with his parties. The guest list was staggering and Peter hardly knew any of them, and the ones he did didn't seem to care for him all that much. It seemed kind of formal, but it was a Stark party so that wouldn't be the case for long. It just needed time and booze. Peter got distracted from his thoughts by the redhead that had just gotten to the bar. She had a black dress that accentuated her figure, and her face seemed to carry a seriousness that was out of place for a Christmas party. He fiery hair was shoulder length and had the perfect combo of waves and curls. Peter went to say something to her, but got distracted by the frantic waving of a man down the bar.

The blonde man was obviously signaling Peter with a combination of waves and head shaking. Once Peter had focused on him, he mouthed the words 'don't do it'. Peter furrowed his brow and ignored the warning. "Hey, I'm... "

The woman got her drink and immediately turned to leave, offering a disinterested 'Nope' as she did. Peter slumped his shoulders as he watched her go. "...Peter." He glanced at the man down the bar who was now laughing at his pitiful attempt at an introduction. "Shut up."

The man straightened his somewhat disheveled suit and adjusted his purple tie. "I tried to warn you. You got off easy, she let you keep your larynx."

The man trailed off, still chuckling as Tony joined Peter. He winced as though he'd seen someone get injured. "That was... hilarious, frankly."

Peter smirked before taking a sip of his drink. "Shut it, tin man. Why the he'll didn't you tell me the event was this formal?" 

Tony looked at Peter as though he should've known the answer. "Because your discomfort amuses me."

Peter smirked. "Jokes on you, I don't really care what these people think."

Peter looked across the room, lowering his voice. "You will once you see what Malia's wearing."

Peter raised his brow. "What?" Tony only silently shook his head in response. Peter glanced around at the party and sighed. "You seen Malia?"

"Can't say I have."

Peter leaned on the bar and looked up at the ceiling. He was still unsure of how to approach the situation his drunken self had made for him. Did he ask Malia what happened? Hell no, too awkward. Should he just apologize without knowing what he did? No, the first thing Malia would do is ask him why he was apologizing. There was always just bailing before it got any worse between them. Peter returned his attention to the room as Tony started to pour a drink. "Worried you'll get stood up, Pete?"

Peter shook his head, banishing the thoughts away for the time being. "No, just wondering how long it'll be until someone let's that guy in."

Tony followed Peter's pointing to the glass door that led to the balcony. Some guy Peter didn't know stood outside the locked door, shivering in his red and blue spandex and mask. He waved at Tony and pointed at the door. Tony sighed and started off in that direction. "Is it so hard to come in where I said to?"

Peter chuckled to himself. With a Stark party, there was no telling what could happen.

* * *

Malia hesitated to continue into the room after the doors were opened for her — being completely overwhelmed by the extravagant scenery in the room. She couldn’t quite believe what her eyes were taking in, having only seen parties of this grand scale on TV. Almost everything shined or sparkled amidst the sea of finely dressed guests, leaving little to the imagination. It was as if Christmas itself had exploded across the room. Finally, taking a few steps forward, then another two as people started to be let in, Malia shuffled herself into the nearest corner she could find with her hands tightly gripped around her clutch purse. 

Waiters soon enough approached her as she stood idly by, with champagne glasses, orderves and other delicacies she kindly declined to take, still feeling a bit out of place. She distracted herself not a minute after — gliding her eyes over the crowd of guests in the room. She recognized a few celebrities and heroes who mingled about with smiles plastered on their faces and lifted the corners of her own mouth. ‘Maybe she should socialize a bit?’ She thought as she shifted her attention onto the buzzing bar, looking for Tony and slowly made her way towards the back. She however stopped in her tracks at the sight of Peter on one of the stools. 

He definitely looked worse for wear, sticking out like a sore thumb with the tacky tuxedo shirt he had on. “The hell…?” Malia shook her head in disbelief at his plain lack of sense and let out a laugh as he turned his head in her direction. Quickly turning her own, feeling her green earrings hit the side of her neck, she walked across the floor unable to keep a smile from her face. As she did, she managed to catch a glimpse of Tony in between the company of two women, before ascending the steps to the second level of the Party with an amused expression. 

Unbeknownst to her, Tony had seen her pass and excused himself from his nightly choices. Scooping up two champagne glasses with gusto as a waiter approached him, he looked toward his space friend, whose eyes followed Malia’s figure. He felt a smirk tug at his lips as he maneuvered over the crowd to go after her, purposely getting into Peter’s line of view. Tony gave him a look of surprise in regards to her appearance, fanned a hand over his face and raised a brow in an insinuating fashion. He was no fool to the fact Peter held some sort of feelings toward this girl — it was quite obvious. So he’d move things along. After all it was the season of giving.

Peter couldn't help but stare at Malia as she ascended the stairs. She looked incredible, which only made him feel even more out of place in his casual getup. Judging by the show Tony made of her appearance, Peter assumed he was to thank for her outfit. He still had to figure out what to do about Malia and his... whatever it was. Tony continued to silently harass him as he went up the stairs after Malia. He furrowed his brow as he debated whether he should be concerned or not. Once he'd decided he should start to try and figure out why? 

Peter looked around, desperate for a distraction. He'd been to parties before, plenty of them, and he wouldn't call this one. This was a business meeting with extra steps. Add to that the fact that he hardly knew anyone here, and he really had no reason to stick around. And just where the hell was the karaoke machine? Peter groaned, annoyed that he'd let Tony talk him into coming. Come to think of it, Tony talked him into a lot. 

Peter needed a distraction from his own thoughts of Malia and everything else. He scanned the room, looking for someone or something to occupy his time until this 'party' ended. His eyes were drawn to a sparkling, blue dress that kept disappearing in and out of the crowd. He couldn't get a clear look at who was wearing it, just her brown hair done up in a bun. Maybe some easy on the eyes company would keep his mind off of things. Peter stood up and started weaving his way into the crowd. 

Every once in a while he'd steal a glance at Malia above. He sighed, returning his attention to scanning the crowd. The girl with the blue dress practically glided through the crowd, making it hard to make an introduction. After a few minutes he finally caught up to her. He tried not to come off as weird since he was coming from behind her and opted for a casual introduction. "You enjoying the party?"

The girl turned around to see who had asked the question. "Peter?"

Peter froze like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to say. After a few seconds of awkward silence he finally found some words. "Hey, Kitty."

* * *

She didn’t know why — but, Malia found herself enjoying the presence of second floor far more than the first. Maybe it was the chilled atmosphere or the lesser number of guests that lingered above. Nonetheless, she could breath more relaxed. Walking over to lean ever so gently on the Christmas decorated banister, she noticed a pair of unfamiliar eyes on her. She used the veil her hair created to glimpse at the stranger, pretending to overlook the festivities below and slowly moved her eyes to make out a guy with brownish hair glancing in her direction every now and then. ‘He was cute,’ She thought to herself, seeing a woman walk up and scold him for something. 

‘Or not?’ She turned her attention back to the actual party below her and almost jumped out of her skin when a pair of arms snaked around her waist. “Tony!” Malia instantly calmed her nerves as she turned to face the cheeky billionaire, who extended out one of the champagne glasses he carried and leaned in to kiss her cheek. She felt herself blush from the sudden attention and gingerly accept the drink he had brought her, not wanting to seem rude. “You clean up nice,” She complimented with a genuine smile as he took a sip of drink and raised a brow in response to her words. She did the same whilst taking a very small taste of her champagne.

“I should really be the one complimenting you,” Tony clarified. “I mean, look at you!” He took a step back, pressing his glass to his chest for a dramatic effect and lifted his head up then down to practically ogle at her. “Tellin’ you, Pete’s an idiot. But, I’m sure you already knew that with the whole kidnap space adventure you two have going.” He continued to express, taking a spot besides her. 

“Yeah. Tell me something I don’t know?” Malia retorted back, playfully rolling her eyes.

“Well—,” Tony threw her a glance as he took another sip from his glass. “Did you know our dear ol’ space hobo was engaged?” He announced after a minute of silence between them. “I know. Took me a while to process that one.” He added, noticing Malia’s frozen expression. 

She honestly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The surprises never stopped with Peter. Part of her felt she shouldn’t be surprised anymore. But, she was. Feeling betrayed almost. “Does he also have a child I should know about?” She grumbled, wanting to break the champagne glass she gripped tightly.

“For his sake, I hope not. As a matter of fact,” Tony leaned his figure against the banister to raise a finger at a pair below. “He’s talking to his ex-fiance right now. Another reconciliation?” 

Malia followed his finger and caught sight of Peter with a young brunette in a sparkling blue dress, feeling a bit hurt by the scene. She turned her attention back around as she took in enough, seeing Tony’s eyes lock onto her face with a solemn concern and drank the remaining half of her champagne. “I don’t care.” She hissed, trying to convince her own self of her statement before walking away from Tony without another spoken word. She certainly now wanted to stay away from Peter Quill at all costs.

* * *

Peter recovered from the initial shock of running into his ex-fiance, but was still unsure of what to say. "How have you been?"

Kitty shrugged. "I can't complain. The school's actually been quiet lately. And what about you? What are you doing on earth?"

Peter gestured at their surroundings. "I'm currently Tony's hostage for this little shindig. That and I had an errand."

Kitty nodded, giving him a smile. "Yeah, Stark always had a way of roping you into things."

Peter chuckled, nodding in agreement. "You look good, Kitty."

Kitty waved him off. "God, stop with the awkward Ex small talk. It's unbearable. Love the suit, by the way."

Peter breathed a sigh if relief as he felt a lot of the tension leave the situation. "Nice, isn't it? I don't even know where I got this dumb thing."

Kitty held up her hand. "I actually got that for you."

Peter stared at her, again scrambling for words. "Oh... sorry."

Kitty started to laugh and shook her head. "I had nothing to do with that shirt, Peter... or did I?"

Peter nodded, unable to keep from laughing along. "You, here with someone?"

Kitty wiped a tear from her eye as she nodded. "Yes, Piotr." Peter furrowed his brow, earning a sigh from Kitty. "Colossus." Kitty shook her head at Peter's continued cluelessness. "Metal mug."

Peter's face lit up with recognition. "Oh, him! I knew that." Kitty rolled her eyes, sending Peter on the defensive. "I'm sure you don't remember any of my friends."

Kitty started counting on her fingers. "Rocket, Drax, Groot, Gamora and Mantis." She smiled at Peter's disappointed look. "They're a hard bunch to forget. Speaking of, where are they?"

Peter took a deep breath. "They're off doing their own thing."

Kitty gave a small laugh. "Getting away from you, I'm sure." She stopped laughing once she saw the grim look on Peter's face and opted to change the subject. "Are you here with anyone?"

Peter shook off his dark thoughts. "Um, kind of? Not really."

Kitty furrowed her brow. "What's that mean?"

Peter sighed as Malia invaded his thoughts. "Well, I have a friend here, but we haven't spoken since... it's all screwy."

Kitty cocked her head. "Why can't you just have normal friendships? Where's this friend of yours now?"

Peter scanned the upper level until he found Malia and pointed her out. "She's up there."

Peter kept his eyes trained on her as she talked with Tony. Being closer now then he had been before he noticed her makeup. He'd never seen her wear makeup before, seeing as how running for your life doesn't leave much time for beautification. It was weird seeing her dressed up in something other then her spacesuit. "She's pretty."

Peter was pulled from his thoughts and returned his attention to Kitty. He tried to play dumb, something he'd been told came naturally. "Is she?"

Kitty held up a hand. "Don't even try. I just watched you stare at her for a solid twenty seconds, so don't pretend you don't know it." Peters shoulders slumped. "And you said you two were having trouble?"

Peter nodded sheepishly. "Yeah,"

Kitty glanced up at Malia again, a smile crossing her face. "Go talk to her."

Peter looked up from the floor. "What?"

Kitty put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Whatever's up between you two is very, VERY obviously bothering you. So, just go up there and talk it out. You'll regret it if you don't."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Why?"

Kitty smiled mischievously. "Because you not talking things out was one of the reasons I left you."

The two laughed. "It was good seeing you, Kitty."

Kitty started to walk off, smiling back at Peter. "Wish I could say the same, Space boy."

Peter chuckled, not used to run-ins with Exes going so well. He should go and talk to Malia, even if it would be profoundly uncomfortable. Though he'd probably never see her again after he left, he didn't want them to part on such weird and bad terms. It was probably the best way to go about this, judging by how the right way always seemed to be the most unpleasant. He looked up to where she had been and only to see Tony standing in her place, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. Peter furrowed his brow as Tony raised his glass to him. 'That's probably not a good sign' Peter thought to himself as he walked off to go find Malia. 

* * *

Malia let out a breath as she made her way around the second floor, wanting to escape from sight. Her eyes scanned the room for a darkened corner she could retreat to again, but had no luck in finding any that weren’t already occupied with suggestive activities. “Great,” She huffed, finding herself taking the first open seat she could find at the bar. At least she was at the back end side of the room where no one could potentially bother her. So, that was a start. She really didn’t want to see Peter, let alone Tony for anymore spontaneous revelations. “Men are idiots,” She expressed outwardly, hearing the woman beside her agree and turn unexpectedly to introduce herself.

“Janet.” 

Malia extended out her hand as the pixie-haired woman did the same and returned the one-name introduction she had given her with a smile loosely plastered across her face. She watched as Janet’s expression perked up at the mention of her name and furrowed her brows a bit, not knowing if she had met her somewhere before from the odd reaction.

“So, that’s who I picked out the dress for,” She herself clarified, before giving the bartender a beckoning wave. She ordered two drinks as the uniformed mixer came to her call and continued to say, “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“I knew someone helped Tony with this.” Malia waved over her outfit. “Almost thought it was his AI too.” 

Janet laughed. “No. That was all me. Wouldn’t stop calling me about it either.” She turned over to take the drinks the bartender had brought her.

Time almost flew on by after Malia began to chat with Janet over the darndest of things that ended with Peter. The subjects always seemed to include him or rather she found herself remembering something he did and threw it in for extra commentary. She was starting to believe maybe everything everyone was telling her was right. She shook her head abruptly, letting the thought immediately leave her mind. She didn’t like him. And even if she did...he’d surely deny whatever they had between them.

“You know what. I have the perfect remedy for your case.” Janet’s lively voice soon rattled her back to reality, surely having taken notice of her zoning out. 

“What? Another drink? No thank you.” Malia uttered, raising a hand up in defense. “I think I’m good.” 

“No. A guy! And a good one at that.” She practically jumped off of her stool and grabbed for her arm. “I know the perfect one. He’s a little corny and a total dork, but you two will hit it off.” Janet moved along the hefty crowd, pulling her through and turned to give her a smile as they came to a round table. “I know it,” She then whispered to her with confidence, stepping aside for her to recognize the guy whom had been staring at her from earlier. 

“Scott, meet Malia.” Janet introduced. “Malia, Scott Lang.”

* * *

Peter ran a hand through his hair as he leaned on the banister overlooking the level below. After searching for a half hour, he'd pretty much given up on looking for Malia. Tony had all but disappeared as well, probably off mingling with the guests somewhere. That left Peter feeling pretty much stranded at this God forsaken party. Funny how he felt less isolated in the darkness of space then he did here surrounded by people. He sighed as he stood up, deciding to head to the bar for a quick drink. His eyes gave the bar below a quick scan, stopping immediately when they fell on Malia. 

She was with someone, a guy. They were carrying on like a couple of friends, chatting and laughing away. Peter furrowed his brow, trying to place where he'd seen the man before. Keeping track of earth's heroes wasn't something he really needed to do, that was assuming the man was one. He didn't know why, but the situation annoyed him. Peter refused to admit it was jealousy, even to himself. Malia was a friend, that was all. And regardless of any 'deeper connection' he thought he felt, there was no point in bringing it up. One, she was going to be out of his life soon, and two, he didn't want her added to his list of exes that hated him. Though after whatever happened last night, it may be too late for her hating him. "Don't they make a cute couple?"

Peter glanced back, giving Tony's smug look a smirk in response. "This have anything to do with you?"

Tony put a hand on his chest. "Me? Now, why would I do something like this?"

Peter shook his head as he looked back down at the two. "Hell if I know why you do the things you do. Who is he?"

Tony rested a hand on the rail, taking the spot next to Peter. "That's Scott Lang." He shook his head at Peter's lack of recognition. "The astonishing Ant-Man?"

Peter's hand slipped in the banister, surprise written on his face. "The human shrinky dink?! But, he's such a dork. I'd get it if it were somebody like..." Peter struggled to come up with an example. ", somebody like... who's that really pretty guy on your team?"

Tony glanced up from his drink. "Me?"

Peter shook his head. "No, the one who looks like he was ripped off the cover of a grocery store romance novel."

Tony chuckled to himself. "Thor, Peter. It's Thor. If it bugs you so much go down there and say something to her. Clear the air between you two so you can... "

Peter shook his head as Tony cut off his own sentence, letting Peter's imagination fill in the blank. "Yeah, you'd like that. It'd give you some good entertainment. Hey, I might even get slapped and humiliated in front of everyone."

Tony held up a finger. "Now, don't get me excited for nothing. Talk to her or don't, makes no difference to me."

Peter ran his hand down his face as Malia laughed especially loudly at something Scott said. "I'll talk to her later." He noticed the pleased look on Tony's face. "About whatever happened last night, because there's nothing else to talk about. After tonight I'm heading back into the void of space and she's going back to... whatever she was doing before I showed up."

Tony gestured down towards Malia. "She know that?" 

Peter furrowed his brow, not following Tony's question. "Of course she does. That's the whole reason we're here. It's all I've been trying to do for the past quarter of a year." He looked back down at Malia as a worrying thought crossed his mind. For the past three months he'd had a mission, get Malia home. It'd been the first time he'd really had a purpose since his falling out with the Guardians. And in all the thoughts about being alone again he'd forgotten that it'd also mean he'd be... drifting again. He'd probably go back to smuggling again, do that until his miniscule luck runs out and the Novas toss him into a hole somewhere. Well, that is unless whatever Rocket wanted him for didn't get him killed. 

Tony rattled the ice in his empty cup, shaking Peter out of his thoughts. "Well, I need a refill. Let me just give you a thought. If you do like the girl, what's the harm in saying so if you're leaving anyway?"

Peter watched Tony walk off. "Just mind your own business, Tony. Damn." He turned his attention back to Malia and her 'date'. His hand wandered to his pocket where the embarrassingly titled 'Malia Mix' was kept so as to avoid it fallining into anyone's hands. Maybe Tony had a point with that last thing. Even if she didn't feel the same connection, what could telling her he did hurt? Gah, why did everything end up being about her?! Peter trailed off, shaking his head at the whole situation. 

Peter heard Malia laugh again and groaned. "What the hell's so funny?!" He nodded at a few of the guests as they eyed him for his little outburst before returning to watching the pair below. "What the hell is so funny?"

"So, you've gone from striking out to stalking, huh?"

Peter glanced over at the blonde man from the bar earlier. "What's it to you?"

The man scratched at his rough stubble, shrugging as he did. "Just bored, I guess."

Peter sighed. "I'm not stalking her. She's a friend."

The man snatched a glass of champagne from a tray as the waiter walked by. "Well, your 'friend' seems to be getting friendly with the incredible shrinking man down there."

Peter furrowed his brow. "You always this nosey?"

The man took a sip from his glass. "Only when I'm bored. And since watching Natty absolutely crush your spirit was the most entertaining thing that's happened tonight, I figured I'd follow you and see what other misfortunes befell you."

Peter smirked. "Yeah, I'm just everyone's entertainment tonight. Now, if you don't mind, I'm thinking thoughts here."

The man continued to watch him, unphased. "I don't mind." Peter grumbled as he looked back towards the two. After a minute or two the man behind Peter yawned loudly. "Oh, bored again."

Peter furrowed his brow as the man waved the redhead from earlier over. "What? What are you doing?"

The man shrugged. "Security work." He pulled out his phone, glancing from the screen to Peter before showing him the screen. "This you?" 

Peter blinked in surprise at the picture of himself that graced the man's screen. "I can explain... whatever it is."

* * *

Malia didn’t really know what to say as she looked on between Janet and Scott with a forced smile painted across her face. ‘Hi,’ was too short, almost informal like to blurt out after an introduction. Or so she believed — hearing Scott pipe up a simple, ‘Hello,’ her way. She had to admit that made her feel a lot better about the unexpected situation. She never did agree to meeting him in the first place. Feeling herself gently be pushed forward by the pixie devil herself, Malia took a step forward to avoid being purposely shoved.

“Hello,” She finally chirped, fidgeting with the metal lock of her purse. She took in a breath and tried to shake off some of her nerves by taking the seat over from where he stood — cautiously enough not to expand the leg slit of her dress. She could tell Janet was impressed by her initiative as the brunette gave her a firm nod and pushed Scott to sit down beside her. “You two mingle. I’ll be back.” She announced, before turning to disappear into the sea of guest without another glance or jab. Now they were alone and Malia felt unsure about the whole thing.

She had to admit though, Scott was cuter up close. But, she couldn’t use that as a conversation starter. She could tell he was rather nervous himself with how many times he adjusted the crooked tie he wore. That or he was just really bad at tying the darn thing. “Do you need help with that?” She meekly asked, not wanting to laugh at his many failed attempts. She motioned her hands a bit to reach for his tie then stopped to glance up at him. He stared blankly at her as if he were processing her words and accessed the situation, his eyes going to and from her hands to his collar. “Yeah.” He slowly uttered, leaning a bit forward. 

Malia concentrated on his tie, remembering the simple steps from an old Youtube Tutorial she had seen a while back and laughed out loud as she awkwardly struggled to loop the wide end into place. “Where’d you get this tie?” She wondered, locking eyes with him for a minute or two before looking at the tie in her hands. It didn’t want to cooperate. “Please don’t tell me the dollar store,” She added noticing Scott nervously chuckle in response to her question. She gave a smile, feeling herself having relaxed all of a sudden thanks to her random conversational skills. Maybe this is what she really needed after all; a distraction.

Scott scratched the back of his head sheepishly before speaking. “Worse. A friend.” He disclosed, gently taking his tie back and rolling it up into a ball. “Should’ve probably not gone to an ex-con for one.” He admitted with a sort of wrinkled expression.

“Yeah, ex-cons aren’t really advised for suits and ties.” Malia leaned back into her seat, giggling over his confession, trying to figure out where she had heard the name, ‘Lang,’ before. She knew most of the attendees were either celebrities, journalists or... heroes. So, he was definitely one from the list.

“Are you an Avenger by any chance?” She threw out curiously seeing him stuff the tie in his hand away. 

“Sort of… a part-time Avenger.” He answered with squinted eyes. “I’m the guy they call when nobody else shows up.” 

“Oh, like the back-up?” Malia interjected, pleased she had guessed correctly. 

“More like, the back-up to their last back-up plan.” He chuckled, figuring he’d take the chance to introduce his heroic alias name. “Ant-Man II.” 

Malia snapped her fingers as the imaginary bulb in her head went off. “That’s where I’ve heard of you.” 

Scott nodded along to her sudden outburst. “Let me guess, on the News right?”

She shook her head playfully, “Nope. Online.” 

“Even worse!” He sighed, running a hand through his auburn hair. “People on there aren’t so nice.”

“When are they ever on there?” Malia retorted back as Tony’s voice unexpectedly bellowed through the entire room from the floor below, causing both her and Scott to look in the direction. He went on about a ‘gift giving,’ activity that was to take place in a few hours and continued on to one of his notorious self gloating speeches she completely tuned out of — rolling her eyes. Music soon after replaced the atmosphere again, a little more louder than before and she took notice of how crowded the second level had gotten. “Where did all these people come from?”

Scott leaned forward to catch half of her remark and wiped the sweat from the palm of his hands on his slacks. “You want to…,” He paused in mid-sentence as Malia whipped her head around to stare at him. “Uh, go outside? I’m sure it’s quieter.” He suggested, swallowing the spit lodged in his throat. He slowly backed himself away from his close proximity to her and chuckled nervously,. “Know what, forget—,”

“Yes. Lead the way.” Malia interrupted him with a smile placed on her lips. She stood up, almost wobbling over and grabbed for his hand as he extended it out to her. “Thanks,” She gripped her purse slightly, waiting for the feeling in her legs to kick in and followed Scott across the floor then down the stairs rather cautiously. She grabbed onto him for support, spotting Janet amidst the crowd giving her an approving look and a wink that made her laugh. In a way she had to thank her for this mood change she felt, no longer having Peter on her mind or plain agitated anger. She was actually enjoying herself for once.

“My lady,” Scott pulled her out of her reverie with a funny butler voice, having the door to the entrance already opened for her. “My good sir,” She tried her best to mimic a british accent and courtesy before heading through the door with the skirt of her dress held up for dramatic effect. They both laughed in unison as they entered the empty hall and walked alongside the closed guest rooms in character — the doorman nearby giving them a look over their oddness which only caused more laughter to erupt from them. The poor, confused guy. 

“So…?” Malia looked around the futuristic hallway as her giggles calmed and waited a minute to speak again. As she did, she knitted her brows together catching the sight of a stranger hunched over across the hall, trying to pick what she assumed was a room’s padlock. Quickly pressing herself against the wall, she called out to Scott who looked up. She abruptly grabbed the part-time Avenger by his collar before the stranger could see them and pulled him against her with wide eyes. “Someone's trying to break into that room. Don’t look!” She whispered at him, feeling her face warm up. She could feel his minty breath fanning her from the close contact. 

Scott tried not to turn his head. “What? He scrunched up his facial features in confusement. “Who’d steal from Stark? Even I know that’s close to impossible.” He uttered down at her in a hushed tone, wanting to look at the perpetrator. He placed his arms on either side of Malia to make whatever they were trying to do look convincing enough. “What if he’s just fixing the lock?” He further added, eyeing the woman in front of him with one raised brow. 

“On Christmas Eve?” Malia almost yelped back, covering her mouth. “Let’s be real.”

“You never know. Tony does have a scrooge-esque thing about em.” Scott expressed in a playful tone. He lifted the corners of his mouth into a smirk and bit back his urge to chuckle, hearing Malia shush him and slap her small hands over his lips to stop him from speaking any further. 

“He’ll hear you!” She scolded him, unable to keep her own self from smiling. She lowered her head a bit under his arm afterward, using her small figure to her advantage and peaked out to see what the stranger was doing. Locking eyes with the certain individual, she looked up at Scott whom had his attention toward the man and turned her attention back down the hall to see the guy run off the minute she did. He dropped whatever item he carried and scampered out of view, his frantic footsteps being the only thing heard. 

“See!” Malia pulled Scott’s arm back down, waving one hand over the disappearing act the stranger had committed. “He ran off. Maybe we should call Happy?” She added not shortly after, wondering if there was a nearby security guard they could alert. Someone had to be near. “Or should we, and I mean mostly you, go after him?” She suggested coyly. She reached for her green stilettos and removed them from her aching feet before turning toward Scott. Her face automatically wrinkled at the realization that he too was gone. Where did he go?

“Scott?” She turned around in a full three-sixty, the cool temperature of the tiled floors easing her bare feet and started to feel anxious. Did the guy they just seen have powers? Causing Scott to up and disappear. She called out his name again, hesitantly walking across the chunk of hallway that was left and gasped loudly as she heard a small, ‘psst,’ sound. She lifted her head around then up and to the right until her eyes caught something on her shoulder. “Scott is that you?” She asked cautiously, recalling his alias from earlier. Ant-Man. She mentally slapped herself as she placed him in the palm of her hand.

_ “Wanna have some fun with that guy?” _

* * *

Peter looked between the man and the redhead as she reached them, holding up his hands. "I haven't done anything since I got here, I swear."

The man scrolled in his phone, looking generally disinterested. "Why are you here then?"

Peter turned back to point at Malia and explain his getting her back to earth, just in time to see her disappear through a door with Scott, smiling and laughing. How? How could he feel any more upset about that situation? She didn't laugh like that around him, just courtesy chuckles or elbows to the ribs. Where were they going? Peter was forced to return to the situation at hand with a flustered mind. "I was here for her, the girl with the bug dork."

The woman threw up her brow. "Here 'for' her? Are you aware of how creepy that makes you sound?"

Peter shook his head frantically. "No, not like that. I was bringing her back. What's all this about anyway?"

The man put away his phone. "Listen, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but you're on quite a few watchlists. We just happen to be employed where one of those watchilsts resides."

The redhead cocked her head slightly, her eyes never leaving Peter as she studied him. "And unlucky enough to have someone on it pop up on one if our very few nights off.Peter was always worried something like this would happen every time he came to earth. Whenever he popped in someone made sure to tell him he wasn't welcome. "Listen... you two?"

The man pointed between himself and the woman. "Clint, Natasha."

Peter nodded. "Alright. Tony knows I'm here, I'm a guest of his. Ask him about me, he'll tell you what's up."

Natasha gave a smirk. "We don't work for Stark, thank God. Now, I'm going to ask you the same question you neglected to provide a 'suitable' answer for. Why are you here?"

Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just ask Stark. I was here to get that girl with Scott back onto this stupid, blue marble of yours."

Clint folded his arms across his chest. "Why was she with you in the first place?"

Peter groaned. He was nowhere near in the mood to deal with getting the third degree right now, not when Malia was off doing... whatever with captain tiny britches. "Listen, I'm going to be off your planet by tomorrow, so there's no reason to go through all this. Can't you guys just leave it be. Come on, it's Christmas."

Natasha looked unimpressed by Peter's smile, glancing at her partner with a look of annoyance. "Can I take him down?"

Clint gave a small smile as a worried look crossed Peter's face. "You don't have to ask me just to be nice, Natty. Just don't break anything too vital."

Before Peter could say anything Natasha had planted a swift kick into his stomach. As he bent over in pain, she spun him around and pressed him against the banister that overlooked the floor below. He winced as she bent his arm behind his back, pressing her body against his back to keep him in place. Peter glanced at her face next to his, hissing as his arm continued to burn. "You... you smell amazing."

Natasha raised her brow before giving Peter's arm a painful yank. Clint casually leaned on the banister on the other side of Peter. "Why does everybody pick the hard way? Now, all we want to know is what a known space criminal is doing messing around in earth. You can't expect us to believe you're just here for the party."

Peter shook his head. They weren't going to believe anything he said if all they were looking at was his reputation, but he'd tell them anyway. "Like I said, I'm here because I was bringing a friend back home. That's all."

Clint seemed to consider what he was saying for a few moments. "Well, if that's what's going on and that girl was your friend, then you can just be on your way."

Natasha stood him up, keeping his arm behind his back. Peter furrowed his brow. He still wanted to leave Malia on the best terms he could given the situation, and he didn't think just disappearing would do that. "Soon! I just have one thing to take care of."

Clint sighed, shaking his head. "Not gonna happen. Sorry, pal. But we've got enough..." He pulled his phone back out and began to scroll again. "Thieves, smugglers, pirates, deviants... you know what? This is a long rap sheet and I've got other stuff to do, so shall we?"

Natasha forcefully moved Peter forward with Clint staying at their side. She , looking at Clint. "Not even a break on Christmas."

Clint shrugged. "I've long since given up on getting to do normal things."

Peter looked around the room. "We could still just forget this. Grab a drink, do something Christmasy. For example," He nodded upwards, glancing at Natasha over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow. "mistletoe."

He said it with a suggestive cadence, making him chuckle slightly. His little joke was cut short when he cried out at the familiar pain of his shoulder being forcefully popped out if place. Natasha leaned forward, her breath tickling his ear. "Merry Christmas."

Peter sighed through piercing pain and teary eyes. "Worth-worth a shot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope super-long chapters aren't a bad thing! Even with editing, a lot still stays. But, hopefully you readers appreciate the lengths and personal character perspectives.


	14. Chapter 11 (pt. 3)

_“You're. So. Cute!”_ Malia held her face close enough to her palm to squeal over Scott’s miniature form. She poked him gently in the stomach then side, giggling as he pushed her finger away with a smirk. “Alright. Alright.” She heard him chime — taking a minute to adjust his wrinkled suit. “Now, I can finally say, ‘stuff you in my purse!’” She noted, placing him on her shoulder and walking toward the object the burglar had dropped. It was some sort of coding device, she assumed as she examined it over then lifted it up for Scott to see. 

“I don’t think he was getting in there with that.” He solemnly expressed. “It’s the wrong code calibrator.”

“Of course,” Malia nodded along as if she knew what he meant by that and cautiously turned to look down the opposite end of the hall. No one in sight. “So, what is it we’re doing, exactly?” She wondered out loud, glancing at Scott for him to elaborate. She didn’t know what ‘fun,’ they could possibly have chasing down burglars in the middle of Christmas Eve. But — maybe it was some sort of hero thing she didn’t have to understand. Or...just a Scott thing. 

“Well, I could make him believe this place is haunted.” He expressed. “Show em the ol’ Stark of Christmas past.” 

“You really think Tony is that cruel?” Malia pressed on as she started to walk again.

“Come on! Who doesn’t think that? I mean, if I do happen to be right, about the whole lock situation, you kinda owe me.” Scott chuckled with humor laced in his voice.

“Oh, yeah? We’ll see.” Malia playful chimed back. “I’m pretty sure that guy was definitely trying to break in.” She firmly stated, before focusing on the new task at hand of finding their escapee stranger. Being as quiet as she could be, only hearing her bare feet pitter patter against the tiled floor, she snuck around the hallway until she spotted their wanted man. He frantically talked on a cellphone, pacing back and forth in a fidgety manner. Leaning in to press her figure against the wall, she proceeded to listen in with Scott pressed against her ear. 

“It wasn’t working!...Damn thing kept giving me wrong numbers.” The man waved his hands in front of him dramatically, turning to and fro. “Then a couple came into the hall, ruining everything...I dunno why, to get laid.” He frustratedly exclaimed into his cell phone, causing Malia to almost laugh out loud over his commentary. She was right. He was trying to break into that room. “Told you so,” She whispered down at Scott who raised his hands up in defense. She smiled then put on the best drunken performance she could muster up, wobbling out toward the perpetrator.

“Hey, you there!” Slurring her words with a sloppy point thrown out. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Uh,” He quickly ended his call with the other person on the line. “I dunno. Sorry.”

“Sorry? But, I have to pee!” Malia shouted, her voice practically echoing off the walls. She stumbled up to him and fell onto forward with a small, ‘oops.’ “This place is so freaking huge.” She continued to groan as she caught Scott jumping onto the burglar's coat pocket from the corner of her eye. “Hey, Mister!” She abruptly pushed herself away, giving him a daggered glare. “Watch it.” The minute he stumbled backwards confused by her notion, she wobbled away, stifling in her urge to laugh. Now, it was all up to Scott’s ol’ Christmas ploy.

Malia hid herself behind the cover of the wall and waited for mayhem to unfold. After a few minutes of silence, the shouts of the stranger were soon heard, screaming bloody murder. “There we go,” Following the shouts, she picked up his cellphone from the floor to dial Happy and alert him of the frantic man possibly heading toward the nearest exit. She giggled as with a poof, Scott re-appeared again at his normal size, hunched over, laughing over the scene. “You should’ve seen his face!” He chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Poor guy didn’t see it coming.” 

“I bet,” Malia looked up at him, smiling. She bravely took a step forward and picked a strand of his hair from his eye and moved it aside. “Now what?” She asked calmly enough, feeling her cheeks warm up a bit. Why did she just do that? 

“Well…,” Scott awkwardly coughed, before looking down at his watch. “What about some food?” 

“Yes, please.” Malia perked up, liking the idea of eating a great amount of whatever grub the cooks made for the Party. She was starving now that she had a chance to realize it, having only eaten a crummy bagel in the morning. Grabbing for Scott’s arm and leaning her tired figure against his for support, she started to walk. Both of them eventually found an empty Lab room that was open for use. She made herself comfortable on the floor behind the large experiment table and let out a sigh. “I could go for a big juicy steak about now.” She uttered, folding her legs to one side. 

Scott lifted the corners of his mouth into a smirk and raised a finger. “Coming right up.” Before disappearing out of the room without another word. He came back not ten minutes after with two white plates in his hands. “Ask and you shall receive…” He expressed coyly. “Or sneak in and take it.” He further added, carefully sitting himself beside Malia with a small grunt. He handed her a plate, making himself comfortable and gave her a curious look she returned back. 

Time seemed to loom on by with them randomly chatting away while they ate. Malia couldn’t believe all the hours that had passed in between their mini-adventure and now lounging. She had to thank Janet once she returned back to the Party. Scott had really swooped in and replaced her thoughts over Peter. Sitting here on the floor, giggling like a schoolgirl was surely proof of it. But...he did sneak into her mind and quickly made his way out of it the minute he did. Choosing not to dwell any further in her own thoughts, Malia tuned back into the family story Scott was telling her. About his daughter Cassie. 

She nodded along with a smile on her face as she bit down on her steak and finished the remaining food on her plate. Before she even knew it both her and Scott made their way back to the entrance of the party. “Thanks.” She found herself soon saying, turning around to face him. “For a lovely night.” She whispered, leaning forward to kiss him. She pushed her hand away from his chest, lingering there for a moment and giggled. “Ant-Man.” Luckily, as he opened his mouth, the door swung up by a guest and she slipped right in, leaving Scott surprised. Malia gave him a wave as she did, knowing he’d leave to spend the rest of the evening with his daughter. 

She’d admit, she didn’t want to say goodbye to Scott, but needed to. Oddly she wanted to seek out Peter, feeling the Christmas Spirit take over her. She’d apologize and spend the rest of the Party with him.

* * *

Peter glanced up as the hangar door opened before him and he was pushed through. He shot a glare back at his 'captors' as they followed not too far behind. "You two are being real dicks about all this, you know?"

Natasha only silently kept her eyes on him, most likely waiting for him to step out of line so she could dislocate something else. Clint was still pretty aloof about the whole situation, his mind obviously someplace else. "Just keep walking, Space con. I've got places to be."

Peter groaned before glancing at his ship up ahead. "Listen, since you're shoving me off planet, can you do me a favor?" There was only silence in response, which wasn't a no. "Can you tell the girl that was with the fifth choice Avenger what happened? Tell her I'm sorry for... whatever happened while I was drunk."

Clint sighed. "I'm not making any promises, but if I see her I'll tell her."

Peter nodded. "It's the least you could do."

Clint threw up his brow. "Well, now I might not."

"May I ask why you two fascists are dragging off one of my guests?"

The trio turned around to see Tony making his way across the hangar, drink in hand. Natasha sighed, obviously not thrilled about running into him. "Because your 'guest' is a known troublemaker, Stark. One that has the attention of more than one global security organization."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Who? Him? I assure you that Rabbi Spiegel wouldn't know how to cause trouble if he was even given the chance."

There was a good few seconds of bewildered silence before Clint finally spoke up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Tony gestured towards Peter. "The Rabbi here is a guest of mine to help me kick around ideas for including Hanuka in the holiday festivities. Just trying not to leave anybody out."

Natasha shot Peter a skeptical glance as he stared at Tony. Peter caught her look, his mind scrambling to remember what a Rabbi was so he could help sell whatever Tony was doing. "Rabbi, Tony? Really?"

Tony shrugged. "He's new to the job, just got his little hat and everything."

Clint shook his head as he pulled out his phone. "We've already seen his record, Tony. So if you thi... " He paused and just stared at his phone. "What did you do, Tony?"

Natasha glanced at Clint's phone as Tony shook his head. "You're gonna have to be more specific, I'm a busy man."

Clint held up his phone so Tony could see. "'Rabbi Spike Spiegel, previous offenses, being the life of the party'. Tony, did you really think this would work?"

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I was doing this anyway when you guys nabbed him. Just thought it was funny. But, we really need to talk about you hauling off my guests."

Natasha shook her head. "Tony, we have our job."

Tony stared at Peter, the gears in his head almost visibly spinning. "Release him into my custody."

Peter's brow shot up involuntarily. "What?

Natasha stepped forward. "Tony, you don't have any authority to be in that position."

Tony scoffed at the statement. "I'm rich. I can afford to be in any position I want. Listen, he's really not a threat, but yo put your minds at ease I'll make sure he stays at the tower for the remainder of his stay. Then, when that time's up I'll ship him on his way back out to space. S.H.I.E.L.D. has eyes in here, so you'll know if he's gone."

Clint shrugged and started towards the.e hangar door. "Whatever."

Natasha furrowed her brow. "Where are you going? We can't just leave him."

Clint glanced over his shoulder. "Natty, I've kids at home who I still have to get some toy that they'll apparently die without if they don't have one. Leave the Space con here and we'll check in later. Look at him, do you really think he's a threat?"

Natasha turned her attention back to Peter, her eyes roaming over him. "Fine, but if you do anything, I won't be as gentle as I have been."

Peter gingerly touched his dislocated shoulder and smiled. "You promise?"

Natasha turned and started after Clint. "You two deserve each other."

Tony chuckled before stepping towards Peter. "Thanks, Tony."

Tony shrugged. "Least I could do. Besides, you still have to talk to Malia."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Wait, did you go through all this just so I'd still have a chance to talk to her before I left?"

Tony took a sip of his drink, his eyes trained on the ceiling. "Maybe. Didn't want you to miss Secret Santa either."

Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose. This whole stupid party and Malia had worn down his brain quicker then he'd thought possible. "Why are you so obsessed with me and her?! It's not happening, Tony! She's staying, I'm going, end of story! It'd never work anyway, she can barely stand me now and whenever I get involved with a girl they learn to hate me more! How could she hate me more?! Hell, she might already hate me more because of whatever the hell I did while I was drunk! She's off with Scott anyway and seemed pretty f*cking happy without me around! And this is all assuming that I like her like that! I don't, no matter what drunk me says or how many mix tapes he makes her!"

Tony nodded slowly as Peter recovered from his outburst. "So, what you're saying is... you made her a mixtape. That's adorable, Peter."

Peter shook his head and started back towards the party. "Shut up, Tony. I'm getting a drink, so congratulations on breaking my resolve to not drink heavily tonight."

Tony laughed, in part because of his plans for Peter that had yet to pass. "Just get back in there, Secret Santa us starting soon and you don't want to miss it. Hey, don't you want your arm fixed?"

Peter tried to ignore his throbbing shoulder, not wanting to fess up that he'd forgotten about. "I'll get it fixed later! Leave me be!"

* * *

_“Where is this idiot…?”_ Malia looked around the crowded room for Peter as she maneuvered through the sea of guests and scanned her eyes over the roaring environment. As she caught a glimpse of his retreating figure, she reached out for him and quickly placed herself at his side. “Found you!” She huffed with a smile, giving him a gentle push. She almost instantly noticed his grim expression and let the corners of her mouth fall. “You okay?” She asked, a bit worried he had gotten into some sort of trouble by the looks of his disheveled clothes and out of place shoulder.

Peter couldn't help but give her a small smile, pushing his conflicted feelings to the side for now. "Oh, I'm fine. A foxy redhead dislocated my shoulder and I almost got deported, but besides that it's been a great party." He winced again as his shoulder started to throb a bit worse. "Okay, cards on the table, I f*cking hate this boring 'party'." A laugh escaped him as Malia listened to him intently, the concern never leaving her face. He honestly hadn't been sure she'd even want to talk to him after whatever he'd done, so he decided to take Kitty's (and to a lesser extent, Tony's) advice and be open. After a quick glance around to make sure Scott wasn't around and a deep breath to calm the discomfort, he started. "Listen, I genuinely don't remember whatever it is I did last night. I remember drinking with you and Tony, and I know that Tony split and then later you were angry, but everything is a blank. So, even though I'm not even sure I want to know, what did I do?"

“Well,” Malia held a finger to her chin and hummed as if she were in deep thought over his question. Part of her wanted to tell him a made up story about how inappropriate he was — but, she couldn’t quite bring herself to lie, unsure if this was the best time to joke around. After all, he looked like shit. Or even worse. Seeing him knit his brows together in concern over her long pause, she dismissed his question with a firm, ‘no,’ and rolled her eyes to elaborate further. “You didn’t do anything, Peter. I mean, you did out yourself about stalling to get me here…!” She took the opportunity to raise her voice. “But, it’s whatever for now. Let’s just try enjoy the rest of the Party and get someone to pop your arm back in, okay?”

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. The stalling of their progress wasn't something he would've wanted her to know, but it was hardly the worst scenario that had crossed his mind about last night. "Sounds like a plan." He glanced up at the sound of Tony's voice coming through unseen speakers. Something about a gift exchange or something, Peter didn't really care. Now that he knew that he and Malia were on relatively good terms, he was honestly relieved. He was still dreading the goodbye, but that was what it was. His mind wandered to her and Scott and how happy she'd seemed with him, and he couldn't help the negative feelings he had about it. "How was your 'date'?"

“Date?” Malia flicked her brown eyes up at Peter, unsure of how to respond. ‘Was it a date?’ She asked herself, feeling the corners of her mouth lift from the quick memories that flooded of her and Scott. She wasn’t sure what she would call their little adventure. Maybe, a pre-mini-date? She nodded to that idea, before focusing on Peter again. “Um, it was nice. He was cute.” She admitted, picking off some imaginary lint from the top of her dress. [C]“Didn’t get to stuff him in my purse though.” She added in a low grumble as the guest around them started to make their way toward the gigantic tree in the room. She figured it had to do with Tony’s ongoing announcement and hesitantly stepped over to one side, not wanting to get pushed over. 

Finding her balance again, Malia bit the inside of her cheeks and asked him the dreaded question that soon entered her mind. “How’d the chat with your ex-fiance go?” She looked at him with a raised brow, knowing it was a fair thing to ask. After all, Tony told her and while she didn’t exactly ask him to give her a full background story of his life, that small bit would’ve been nice to know. It bothered her. She told him stuff even if half of it he didn’t get with the Earth references — but she did. So, why didn’t he? She hung both her hands on either side of her hip and tapped her foot in an impatient manner. “Your not going to play dumb out of this one. So, spill it, Peter Quill!”

Peter blinked, taken aback by the question. How did she even... Tony! That gossipy dick. He rubbed the back of his head, trying to find the best way to tell her. "Uh, it went well. It was nice to see her." He sighed as Malia's face made it obvious that the answer wasn't gonna be enough. "Okay, cliff notes then. We met during one of her team's cosmic crises and had a long distance thing for a while after that. I got into some trouble and she came and helped me out. After that she ended up joining my team, we dated, eventually got engaged." He paused, thinking back over the events. "Then this one time we were back on earth she split. Never really gave a real reason, just the usual stuff. I think she just realized it didn't feel right, and if I'm being honest I see it now too. We're still on friendly terms though." 

Peter looked around and noticed that he and Malia were the only ones that hadn't gone to the tree, leaving them in a practically empty part of the room. He returned his attention to Malia, his mind going back to her earlier answer. "How cute was he?"

Malia leaned forward a bit and gave him a playful shrug. "You know, 'I'd like to see him again,' kinda cute." She blurted out, unsure if that was the right thing to admit to Peter as his eyes widened in place. "But, I dunno." She then added, lifting her shoulders again. She did like Scott, but she also liked... Noticing the open space between them and the Party guests, she looped her arms around his and shuffled into the crowd to draw less suspicion to their rude chatter. Once they were in ear range of Tony's Secret Santa introduction, she spoke in a low whisper. "And thank you," She nudged him with her elbow gently. "For telling me something for once. It's all I really want you to do, you know." 

And there was that unexplainable feeling she felt every time they shared some sort of moment again. The same fluttering tickle that made her stomach dance for whatever unspoken connection they had. She wished it would go away. Malia averted Peter’s gaze after a long awkward stare and drew her attention toward the small group of strangers who walked up to the Christmas Tree and picked out a strip from it’s branches. ‘So, that's what the small papers were for.’ She glanced toward Tony, who had preoccupied himself with a female guest of his then at the Tree again, wondering if they needed to participate. “Should we?” She after a minute asked Peter, seeing a woman with a sparkling blue dress smile at them.

Peter glanced at the crowd as they took their names from the tree. "I mean, we could." He chuckled at the thought of some person he didn't know getting some random, weird item off of his ship. It'd make for a fun time with Malia. "Sure, let's do it." Malia wrapped her arms around his, a bit of a habit she had but one he didn't mind. Not two steps towards the tree and they were stopped by Tony, holding a ribbon out to both of them.

"Grabbed yours. Have a good time."

Peter took his as Tony trailed off rather quickly to tend to a guest. He glanced at his paper and couldn't help but groan. "Tony, you bastard." The name assigned to him was, of course, Malia's. He again regretted ever coming to this party as he separated his arm from Malia's. "I... I'll be back." Peter trailed off, his mind racing. He wasn't good at gift giving, so his first thought was to ditch the slip of paper. But then that'd mean Malia wouldn't get a gift at all, and that wouldn't be happening. It was Christmas. And there wasn't anyone here he knew that would swap with him. He had no earth money either. He rushed off towards his ship, hoping to find something there. 

It had to be good coming from him since this would double as his parting gift. A few minutes of frantic running later and he was onboard the Milano, digging through his stuff. He immediately bypassed the jewelry he kept on hand for any girls he took a liking to, too impersonal... also they were all fake. All of his trinkets really only meant anything to him. She'd heard every tape he had... except one. That embarrassing Malia Mix he'd made when he was drunk. Thinking about it now, it was perfect. Embarrassingly personal, deeply emotional, all that good shit. And he'd be gone by the time she heard what was on it, so what did it matter? He took a deep breath and reached into his pocket where he kept it... only to find it empty. 

Peter frantically patted himself down, cursing up a storm as he did. It'd been on him at the party, so that's the only place he could've lost it. Oh God, it was in the wild! He ran off the ship, desperately coming up with a plan B while hoping the tape had somehow met a terrible fate.

* * *

It was no secret. Tony was behind her getting Peter's name for his Secret Santa Event. That she was hundred percent certain of as she stood amidst the men section of a clothing store, combing awkwardly through shirts and pants the very next day. His cheeky little grin partially gave it away when he handed them their strips. Peter's abrupt reaction only added to that percentage. He had run off for the remainder of the night like he'd seen a ghost, leaving her confused until she looked down at her own paper. She had searched for him not shortly after with little to no avail then idly waited for the Party to just finish itself. They probably should've never gone to Earth in the first place.

Sighing heavily to herself, Malia moved over to the next rack and pulled out the first shirt that caught her eye. Peter did wear a lot of graphic tees with sayings and artsy designs from what she picked up on while on the Milano so getting him a couple would make for a fine gift. ‘Right?’ She skeptically asked herself, throwing more than two t-shirts into her cart for safe measure. She gave the store another once over before sluggishly getting to the express lane, still mulling over what else to get him. Shirts were a bit of a cop out and she didn’t want him to think she was cheap — cause she wasn’t. As her turn approached, Malia placed her items into the conveyor belt and waited to be told her total.

“My boyfriend loves these!” 

She heard the cashier suddenly express, causing her to glance at her with a half-smile. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. I’m sure your boyfriend will too. He an asshat like mine?” 

“Um,” Malia took a minute to response, still not used to the fact strangers just assumed her and Peter were together. But, she didn’t feel like explaining that to the Cashier so she simply nodded along and paid her due balance once the amount was flashed for her. She walked out of the store not wasting another second and aimlessly wandered around Time Square, in and out of stores that were either too expensive or insanely out of price. Coming to stop in front of a thrift store hidden in between some buildings, she hesitantly stepped inside. “Please have something,” She mumbled out loud as the smell of incense hit her nostrils as she sauntered in. 

“Hello?” She meekly called out, noticing no one in sight. “Anyone in here?” Taking a few steps forward onto the floor, Malia cautiously moved along the rows of items scattered around the store being glad she had stepped inside. There were tons of old-school trinkets she was sure Peter would love. And spotting a multiple cassette player, she almost squealed in delight. Reaching over for it, she let out a shriek at the sound of a withered voice come from behind her. “Sorry!” She instantly blurted, turning to find an old woman with kind eyes and a antique looking cane held between her wrinkled hands. “Don’t worry my dear,” She heard her say before the elderly woman made way toward the small check out desk.

Calming her own nerves a bit from the unexpected surprise, Malia took the multiple cassette player and followed the owner to pay for it. She placed it on the desk as the old woman gingerly looked for its price tag and proceeded to push in the numbers on the antique register, one by one. As she waited once again with a friendly smile painted on her lips, her eyes loomed over a set of necklaces on display beside her. They were rather simple in style — rustic even, with a thin black chain made out of velvety material. Centered at their middle was a tied quartz crystal. She’d never seen such a necklace before. “How much for one?” She untangled one from the jewelry stand and held it up. 

“Oh. Those come in a pair.” Malia watched as the woman reached over the desk for the second necklace and hold it beside the one she already had. “An old couples necklace, I’m afraid. Take them both, for half price, dear.” Her withered eyes locked onto her face for what seemed like an eternity before speaking again. “Give it to someone you care about. These old things work wonders.” She aligned the two necklaces above each other with her wrinkled hands. “You will always know what the other is feeling with these around your neck. If your sad, mad, happy, the quartz will glow telling that special someone how you are.” She paused to take a breath. “And when your apart...it’ll shine letting them know your safe.”

“How?” Malia found herself asking, completely intrigued. 

“Simple.” She softly responded back. “Through your bond.” 

Malia mouthed an ‘oh,’ silently as the cassette player was neatly bagged and the necklaces were wrapped. She furrowed her brows and lifted her hands forward. “It’s fine. I don’t need those.” She expressed, not wanting to overbuy or indulge the idea of a ‘couple necklace.’ She and Peter were...well, friends or something. Noticing the sweet old woman smile at her, she couldn’t help but to return the gesture. “I mean, I don’t have anyone to give the other one too.” She lied to make up some sort of clarification to why. But, it wasn’t easily bought. The owner insisted and insisted until she caved in, stuffing the wrapped jewelry in her purse. She thanked the elderly woman and bid her goodbyes.

Now all she needed to do was get back to the Avengers Tower. Flagging down the nearest Taxi in the middle of the street, she threw in all of her shopping bags and gave the driver directions, taking the chance to finally breath. She was exhausted. Running all over the crowded streets of New York was never a cake walk. Greeting Happy on her way out of the Cab as he helped her with her load, Malia quickly went to the Milano to properly wrap up Peter’s multiple gifts. She felt relieved finding him nowhere in sight and wrestled around in gift paper like a kid before getting down to business. “All done!” Looking at the table filled with two bags, a box and another smaller one, she clapped both her hands in triumph.

* * *

Peter groggily made his way across the hangar, carrying his bags of gifts. After he'd run off and started scouring Avengers Tower for a gift, he'd ran into Kitty and Piotr at the party. Once she'd heard the situation, Kitty insisted on helping him get Malia a gift. And so, with a little help from Tony, three failed attempts at relocating Peter's shoulder and a drink later, they were off. Then came the long and trying journey of getting Malia a gift. First there was Kitty's question of 'what does she like?', which Peter had to genuinely think on for a while. The answer he came up with after a few minutes of silence had been 'Something about wizard kids and this other thing with some psychic kid'. He didn't know what she was talking about a lot of the time, what with the whole missing a few decades of earth culture thing.

Kitty said she knew what those were and told Piotr where to go. Seeing all the lights and stuff was weird. The last time Peter had been on earth for Christmas was the year before his mom had passed. She'd given him that Han Solo figure that he carried around in his bag. 

Once they'd arrived, Peter spent what felt like hours combing through God knows how many shops and stores. He'd never actually had to shop for someone, let alone a Christmas\goodbye gift combo. Kitty stayed on top of his picks, knowing from experience it wasn't his strongest suit. She'd vetoed a few of his picks as time went on, though he still tried to sneak them past her. At one point she walked off and Piotr had chimed in with the advice 'Pick something that only means something to the two of you. Something that anyone else would see and have no connection with'. So, with that advice, Kitty's guidance and his own lousy instincts, and maybe just a little help from Tony, he'd completed his gift shopping. He thought he'd done okay, but knew he wouldn't have without the help. Probably wouldn't have gotten her a candy bar and some cash. Again, not his strong suit.

Peter boarded his ship, hearing Malia's humming carrying through the corridors. He snuck his way towards his room, being careful not to make a sound. But, all of that was undone by the hissing of his door opening. "Peter?" 

Peter slipped into his room and tossed the bags on the bed. "Yeah, it's me. I'll be in my room for a bit."

Peter didn't hear Malia's response as the slid shut and he faced the items on his bed. Wrapping paper... not something he had. Peter sighed as he improvised by tying the tops of the shopping bags into something reminiscent of a bow. He took a step back, taking in his handiwork. "Good thing the wrapping isn't the important part." 

He hoped the items would have the desired effect of leaving Malia with good memories of their little trek through space. It'd been a time and a half, that was for sure. And at least with these he wouldn't be outing any deeper feelings he may or may not have like that stupid tape would've. Peter gathered up his gifts and made his way out into the hall. 

At the sound of Peter's heavy footsteps echoing down the ship's hall, Malia turned her attention and shuffled herself quickly in front of her gifts to create an opportunity for a surprise. She centered her figure in front of the table, placing her hands awkwardly on either side and smiled as Peter entered the room. Her brown eyes almost automatically glided over to his hands, toward the odd bow-tied shopping bags he held. ‘What in the…?’ She stifled in her urge to laugh at his creative gift wrapping or lack of thereof and leaped to one side to showcase her own. “Tada!” Gesturing to the four christmas presents she had gotten him with some sort of dramatic finesse, she grabbed for the first bag. “I didn’t know what to get you. So, I got you a few things.” She expressed before holding out his first gift.

Peter sat his bags down at his feet and gingerly took the one Malia held out to him. He resisted the urge to try and guess what it was and reached inside. Malia's eyes stayed glued to him, almost making him nervous that his reaction would be a letdown. He pulled out each shirt one by one, looking over the different sayings and designs. When he stopped off on earth he usually grabbed some shirts since he'd almost always see some he liked, and these were exactly what he would have. He looked up at Malia who wire a slightly disappointed look which confused him until he realized he hadn't even thanked her or said anything the whole time he'd been looking the shirts. "Oh, I'm sorry! Thank you, I love them." To prove his point he pulled his own shirt off and replaced it with one of hers. "So, dashing?" That got a laugh out of her, which put him at ease. He reached down and picked one of hers at random, holding it out to her with a half smile. 

Malia looked up at Peter for a brief moment before drawing her attention back to her gift. She honestly hadn’t expected him to get her anything. With how aloof he was most of the time, she figured he’d grab some crappy item from his ship and pass it off as something he got her. But — she was wrong. He had gotten her an actual gift. Three even. Feeling the corners of her mouth lift into an amused smile, she pulled out the Princess Leia figure her eyes landed on from the bottom of the horribly tied bag and laughed. “Now, you’ve completed the set!” She gushed, lifting the toy up for both of them to see. “Han and Leia are officially married. It’s canon even. I think.” She clarified further as Peter’s stunned expression caught her off guard.

“Before you pass out, can you open my gifts first?” Malia laughed, seeing him still stuck in a state of shock. ‘Idiot.’ She rolled her eyes playfully and turned around to pick up the biggest box on the table; his multiple cassette player. She knew he’d love this one. As for the necklace? Her eyes lingered over it’s small box momentarily with uncertainty — the elderly’s woman's words folding back to her. “Um,” Shaking herself out of her own thoughts, she held out his next gift. “I know you have dozens of cassette tapes… So, hopefully this will help you stop leaving them all over the place.” She held the rather heavy box in her arms and practically threw it at him when it’s weight started to bother her. ‘That oughta slap him out of it,’ She giggled as Peter caught the box in the knick of time.

Peter fumbled with the box, almost dropping it before getting a good grip. He didn't think he could hold the heavy package and open it, so he sat it on the ground and knelt in front of it. As he started to open it he was interrupted by a giggle. He looked up from his spot on the floor to see Malia covering her mouth to hold back a laugh. "What?"

She lowered her hand, still grinning. "You really are just a big kid, aren't you?"

Peter smirked as he started unwrapping his gift. "I am not. How many kids do you know that are wanted fugitives..." He paused as his eyes fell upon the now open present. "Oh, my God! What is this?!"

Malia held up a hand as he picked it up, a grin plastered on his face. "It's kinda obvious."

Peter ran a hand over the top of the machine, eyeing the multiple slots for cassettes. He snatched up the device and sat it on the table before rushing off to get some tapes, grabbing as many as the player could hold. Malia had taken the liberty of plugging it in by the time he got back. He loaded each tape in before turning the player on, the slight glow signaling it was on. Peter pressed play and bobbed his head as the first notes of David Bowie's Space Oddity started to play. He couldn't wait to get this thing installed properly. Malia apparently knew him well. 

Peter looked at Malia and flashed a smile. "Thank you. It's awesome."

“See? I knew you’d love it!” Malia felt a genuine flutter of happiness tickle her as she took in his reaction with a smile plastered across her own face. She was happy he was happy. Enjoying a few minutes of David Bowie’s ballad, she moved onto the next gift he had for her, wanting to open the last ones together. “An engraved barbecue fork?” She flicked her brown eyes up at him, holding the familiar item in her hand. “Are you serious?” She chuckled, unable to contain her giggles. She certainly wasn’t expecting something like that to be a gift. But, she should have. It was Peter after all. Leaning in to poke him gently in the exact same place she had the first time they met, she nodded her head with determination. “It’s settled. I’m turning this into a weapon.” 

“Now, let’s open our last gifts together.” With hesitant hands, Malia turned toward the table behind her and picked up the small jewelry box, feeling herself start to get nervous. She didn’t know what excuse to make up. She wouldn’t tell him it was couple’s item, even though she was sure his small brain could put the pieces together. So, she’d go with the next best explanation; a friendship trinket. They were friends, right? Turning back around still with some uncertainty lodged across her face, she took her last Christmas gift as he did his. “On the count of three. Okay?” She took in a deep breath and counted down slowly. At the three mark, she closed her eyes as she gripped the material of her present and pulled it from it’s bag. 

Her eyes slowly opened to see a vintage, rock and roll inspired jacket with the word, ‘Journey,’ sewn in the back. “It’s...It’s based on the song...you,” Malia felt her words leave her as the corners of her eyes began to water and the memory of them in the Nova Cell came flooding in. Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. She considered that her Anthem at one point in her life. “Thank You,” Not wanting him to see her cry over the most simplest thing, she quickly wiped the tears before they could fall and bit her bottom lip. Her mother always told her to take chances and here was the sign. Unexpectedly, in a jacket he chose. She smiled, it being the only thing she could do and wrapped the jacket over her shoulders before finally looking directly at him. 

She noticed he was now holding one of the necklaces up to eye level, taking in the blue colored quartz dangling from it’s chain. “It’s a couple’s necklace.” Screw it, she’d just tell him. “I know we aren’t anything like that, but it also symbolizes peoples bonds.” Malia added, unsure herself where she was going with the subject. She did feel something for him, but wouldn’t admit it. Not even with that woman’s wise words poking at her brain. She wouldn’t. At least not now. “And since we’re in this together, I thought…,” She studied Peter’s face, looking for any sort of emotion then paused once seeing none. Maybe she should’ve stuck to just his shirts and cassette player.

“You know what,” Reaching over for the necklace abruptly, she averted Peter’s eyes. “It was stupid. Just give it back?” She held out her hand as he pulled the necklace away from her and glided his eyes over the quartz. It was glowing.

Peter studied the small glowing rock dangling from the chain, processing everything Malia had, or at least was trying, to say. Her bouts of being flustered never ceased to amuse him, though he never really thought about why she would get that way until this moment. Did she feel that same connection he did, or did she feel something else about him? It didn't really matter with her staying behind anyway. But, this tiny piece of jewelry was the first time either of them had acknowledged their friendship or 'bond' in any way. It was her parting gift.

He looked at her, considering what to say. There was no way he was going to spill his guts as that never really ended well for him, but he couldn't just leave the silence hanging between them. "It's pretty, Mal, it really is." He tried to piece together something that expressed 'some' of how he felt. "I, uh... you're right, we're not anything like that." Peter glanced at Malia, and seeing her mix of confusion and concern took a step towards her. "We're partners. We're Star-Lord and the Earth Girl, the Galaxy's most wanted outlaws. And even though there's many, MANY times where we'd just as soon kill each other then say 'hi', we're friends. And..." He thought back over the past three months, and the past year and change. "and even though I know it was more out of necessity then choice, I wanted to thank you for being my friend at a time when I didn't have any left."

Peter met her eyes as he had a hundred times before and affectionately brushed a strand of hair away from them. He knew he was getting too close and personal with the gesture, and quickly played it off. "That was bugging me." Even if he was still unsure of where exactly he and Malia stood at times, he knew one thing for certain. "I'm gonna miss the hell out of you, Mal."

“What?” Malia knitted her brows together as Peter’s words settled in and a wave of confusement washed over her face. “What are you talking about?” She pressed, touching the strand of hair he had moved aside from her eyes. Did he think she was leaving? She looked up at him in silence, before crossing her arms over her chest. “Peter,” She leaned herself in toward him as if she were going to tell him some sort of secret and slapped him upside the head when she got close enough in range. “I’m not going anywhere, you idiot!” Letting out a heavy sigh, she took a step forward and placed the necklace she had gotten him over his neck. “You would’ve known that if you just asked.” 

She flashed him a smile, noticing how close they were and slowly let her hands slide off his chest — David Bowie’s voice filling the awkward silence that then lingered between them. It was finally out on the table. Her final decision. She just hoped she didn’t regret it. Turning over to pick up the scattered wrapping paper from her gifts, Malia glanced at Peter every now and then. She stopped abruptly in her tracks as a thought came to mind. “Unless…,” She wondered out loud for him to hear. “You don’t want me to?” She coyly added, deciding she’d get a straight answer out of him this time. There was no running away from her this time.

Peter stood in silent surprise as Malia looked at him expectantly. She was staying with him? He felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed by guilt at anybody she was leaving behind on his behalf. The tour of emotions finished in confusion. Why the hell would she want to stay out there, where crooked Novas were after her? He'd have to ask his questions later as Malia was starting to look impatient for her own answer. Of course he wanted her to stay, why wouldn't he? He just never spoke up somas not to mess with her getting home, but now, what did it matter? "I want you to, Mal. Why wouldn't I?" A sly smile crossed his lips. "I mean, I'd just miss seeing you in that spacesuit of yours too much."

Malia took a few minutes to gather her words together. She was surprised Peter didn't beat around the bush, like he usually did or run away from her question. And Mal? She raised a brow upward at the sudden nickname. Since when did he start calling her that? She squinted her brown eyes over at him and stuffed the last remaining paper wrap into one of his empty shopping bags, before turning to point a finger at him. "See?" She playfully huffed. "You just ruined whatever we were having just now." She added in a 'perv' as she walked toward her room to put her gifts away. Halfway down the hall she paused then turned to the side, remembering something that had slipped her mind. 

“Oh! Before we leave we gotta say goodbye to Happy and Tony.” Malia addressed, wanting to make sure Peter knew she wanted to do that. She was sure if it were up to him, the Milano would be half a mile into space by now. “And mostly Happy anyway, since he’s doing me a favor.” She soon clarified, finally entering her room. God, she hoped he heard her, seeing as Peter was making his way toward the cockpit when she turned. Happy had promised to put all of her home belongings into private storage and she wanted to thank him. Since she didn’t know when she would be back again — she took liberty in telling her landlord she would live out her security deposit. 

She had decided not too long ago she would stay with Peter, but she hadn’t thought about her apartment or job until she got the chance to with Happy that night. Plus, between the dozen missed messages and calls she had, it was pretty apparent. Her coworkers thought she was irresponsible, friends believed she was kidnapped — rightfully so, and mom...well, she was the only one who left a peaceful enough message to return a call to. Malia told her more or less a version of what had happened, changing things to a more believable tale until she came clean with mother midway and told her everything. 

She didn’t even have to mention Peter, before she on her own asked. As dodgy as she tried to be, her Mom knew how she felt without her saying much. Like all Mom’s usually did. Nosy and intuitive. Laughing silently to herself as she recalled the phone call, Malia smiled and placed her Princess Leia figure next to the Coraline doll Peter had also giving her. ‘Always follow your gut and most importantly, heart.’ She repeated her Mother’s words before catching sight of the square item on her bed. “A tape?” She turned to look out into the hall for Peter upon realizing it had a bow attached to it with her name. Debating whether or not to call out to Peter, she put the tape inside one of her drawers and went out to find him instead. 

She’d listen to his last gift later.

Peter sat himself in the pilot seat and started to fire up the ship's systems. He had a newfound energy and was more than ready to get the hell off of earth and back into space, and Malia was coming with him. That fact was something he'd still barely processed. He raised the ship and flew out of the hangar, glancing back at the Tower as it shimmered in the sunlight. Stupid Tony and his stupid meddling had stressed him the hell out, so he was glad to be going. If he and Malia were going to... that, it wouldn't be because some immaculately goateed billionaire said so. Peter glanced out at the clouds, fiddling with the pendant she'd given him and chuckling at how flustered she'd been giving it to him. She really was - "Peter!"

Peter looked back at Malia as she climbed the last tung's into the cockpit. "What?"

Malia held her arms out as though she were gesturing at something. "I said I wanted to say bye to Tony and Happy."

Peter furrowed his brow. "When?"

Malia groaned. "Like, two minutes ago. What're you, deaf and stupid?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "No, you just didn't say it loud enough."

Malia threw up her hands. "I practically yelled it at you."

Peter shrugged as he looked back out at the darkening sky. "Yeah, you would." Malia walked over and slugged him in the arm before throwing herself into the copilot seat. Peter rubbed his arm, giving her a smirk. "So hostile."

Malia pointed at him. "You're just lucky I didn't have the fork."

Peter shook his head, unable to keep a small smile from crossing his lips. "Aren't you glad you stayed?"

Malia folded her arms across her chest. "Shut up."

Peter leaned towards her a bit closer, plastering an obnoxious grin on his face. "Aren't you glad you know me?"

Malia stared ahead as the stars started to appear, a hint of a grin appearing on her own face. "Just drive the ship."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you guys have it! The end of the 3 part Christmas Special of sorts. A little early right? But, this was written during Christmas of last year so...I hope you guys enjoyed the finale. Now, the real adventure starts! :)


	15. Chapter 12 (part. 1)

It was to turn the right lever first, then left — leaving the middle one for last. Right? Malia racked her brain over the answer, trying to remember the proper instructions Peter had given her and adjusted the rusty headlamp around her forehead that persistently flickered on and off. She figured this was one way to kick off the New Year; floating around in space with no electricity. Four Harry Potter films in, the Milano had completely powered out, sending her into an unexpected panic while Peter remained half-asleep throughout the whole thing. Apparently, the Wizarding World wasn’t the kind of ‘good time,’ he was expecting.

Oddly enough, their relationship had gotten more complicated since their return — and she reluctantly opted to let things play out. For whatever feelings they felt for one another would surely come to light. Or so she hoped. Peter acted differently toward her now. And maybe that was because she decided to stay, but she wasn’t entirely sure. They had this unexplainable push and pull effect she found herself at random hours of the night thinking about. It drove her crazy! Not to mention his flirtatious ways that garnered way more attention then she was comfortable with. His flirting was one thing, but bringing his hookups aboard the ship was another.

Saying their relationship was complicated was definitely an understatement. Regardless of their connection, part of her still wanted to kill him sometimes. It made her wonder how his old Team even put up with the infamous Star-Lord. She assumed it was through sheer patience or heavy drinking. Being stuck on a ship with someone for hours on end didn’t always result in the happiest of times. Everything was, for the most part, chucked to pure luck. And when you didn’t have luck, you ended up having a power outage in the middle of nowhere and squeezed underneath the floorboards trying to make the damn thing work. 

Malia didn’t know why she was the one down here in the first place, messing around with levers she didn’t fully understand. Peter’s whole, ‘you’re smaller than me,’ reasoning was starting to run thin. Seeing as she had forgotten his simple instructions and now was just staring at the multiple levers in front of her, his bright idea clearly hadn't worked out. Add in the faulty headlamp she kept tapping every other minute, the hope of getting any source of power backup was also diminishing. With a heavy sigh that seemed more like a groan, she pushed down the communication button on her ear and spoke. Might as well let him know. 

“Okay. Tell me which levers I’m supposed to pull again. I forgot.” Hearing the crackled beeping from the other end, followed by odd silence, Malia narrowed her eyes, not in the mood for Peter’s jokes. “Or better yet, why don’t you come down here and do this yourself!” She let go of her earpiece and lifted her contorted body from it’s awkward position, cautious enough to not press any neighboring switches. Maybe the Milano just needed an overdue tune up, along with a new battery. Had he thought of that? Grabbing onto the opening of the floorshaft, she attempted to pull herself up as his voice finally patched through; a little too late. She was out of there.

Peter sat on the floor next to the small hatch Malia had disappeared into, waving his flashlight around in the darkness and making lightsaber noises. As far as he could tell it was the electrical systems that were out, but the engines still worked... for now. The steering should work as well, given that it wasn't electronic based. But, that left them with no way of navigating their path. Rocket was gonna kill him for all the delays, if that wasn't his intention already. Peter's earpiece crackled, making him raise a finger to it. "Didn't catch that, Mal." There was a clunk from below and a few seconds later Malia's head popped up through the hole. Peter chuckled at her disheveled hair and the grease on her face. "Did you do it?"

Peter stood up as Malia started to pull herself out of the hatch. "No, because you wouldn't tell me the directions."

He watched her as she stood and stretched her back from being in such a cramped space. "I told you, that earpiece is old and screws up sometimes. We'll get a new one sometime, but you need to go back down there and..."

Malia held up a hand. "Not happening. It was a wreck down there. Did you ever think that maybe the ship needs looked at or a new battery or something?"

Peter scoffed as Malia started towards her room, tapping at the headlamp as it continued to flicker. He hadn't even thought about maintenance as that had always been Rocket's department. And with all the changes that his former teammate had made to the ship, Peter was sure he wouldn't know what to do anymore. "Of course I did. If I'm riding in a metal capsule, I'm gonna make sure it at least works."

Malia glanced back at the following Peter as they reached the door to her room. "Uh huh. So, what's the plan?"

Peter cleared his throat. "Well, first and foremost is avoiding watching any more movies with little wizards, as that's obviously what killed the ship." He shined his light down the hall, thinking to himself. "I'll check some more things and then have a plan."

Malia nodded. "Alright. And don't think you're not gonna see how those movies end."

Peter smirked as he turned to leave. "Let me guess, they win in the end after losing some stuff."

Malia shook her head. "It's not that simple, smartass."

Peter chuckled as he continued to walk off. "Sure it isn't."

Malia groaned behind him. "Fine, but you're not getting out of your pop culture education. What if we start with stuff you missed from your time, ease you into it? Did you see Alien?"

Peter froze in his tracks, feeling his heart skip a beat in his chest. He felt a deep sense of dread overtake him as he turned and pointed at Malia. "We're not watching that one."

Malia looked perplexed. "Why not?"

Peter shook his head as he started to back away. "We're just not... not ever."

Peter sat in his pilot seat, trying desperately to make heads or tails of the navigation chart he held in his hands with the flashlight in his mouth. He could read them, but only if he knew where he was to begin with. Malia had been right, the battery was close to dying. So, she obviously must never know. If the battery fully died while they were out here, they'd be stranded. He groaned and glanced up at the window outwards, looking at the sea of stars. Something caught his eye, something that broke up the stars. He leaned forward, squinting to try and make it out. It looked like a ship, and a pretty big one at that. Had to be a cargo ship, but it looked practically dead. Peter's eyes lit up as the flashlight fell from his mouth. Not only would there probably be a battery, but an abandoned cargo ship was a goldmine! Who knew what they'd find. Peter turned the ship towards the dead craft and yelled over his shoulder. "Suit up, Mal! We're making a stop!"

“Where?” Malia knitted her eyebrows together as she picked up her suit from it’s rack and removed the faulty headlamp from her forehead. She placed it across her bed to have some source of light to get dressed in and quickly changed out of her earthly attire upon hearing the sluggish rattle of the Milano’s engine. Based on the alarming sound she just heard, she was one hundred percent sure the ship needed a new battery. Slipping into her suit amidst the flickering light, she made her way out of her room and headed toward the cockpit. She hoped whatever ‘pit-stop,’ they were making solved their pressing issue. She’d seen enough sci-fi movies to know, no electricity led to horrifying things.

“Where exactly are we stopping now?” Entering the cockpit with piqued curiosity, Malia aligned herself beside the pilot seat Peter was sitting in and looked up at the deck’s windshield. Her brown eyes widened slightly as an aircraft the size of a football field came into view. It floated ominously in place with no signs of life. From the rusted exterior and worn out paint, she assumed it was abandoned. And wondered if it really was, as Peter parked their ship near a closed port. She turned her head over to him and pointed up at the sealed entry. “I’m guessing you're going to Star-Dumb your way in there, while I safely wait in here.” She made sure to emphasize the, ‘I,’ in her sentence. 

She couldn’t necessarily go out there without some sort of oxygen mask. Her suit worked wonders in terms of dense atmospheres on planets they'd previously set foot on, but she never experimented with open space and quite frankly didn’t want to. “I’ll make sure no one comes aboard the ship. Any bimbo looking alien girls — NOT allowed.” Malia animated a ‘you're out,’ gesture with her arms, before throwing Peter one of her signature glares. She definitely wasn’t over his last raunchy guest and escapade. It was a miracle she hadn't killed the both of them that night. Using the old headlamp again, she sought out an empty mercenary bag from one of the ship’s overhead compartments and turned to him.

Noticing the amused expression and cheeky grin plastered across his lips, she let out a stern, “no,” before she averted her eyes. She wasn’t going to smile or let him sweet talk her into leaving the Milano. “I’m not going.”

Peter stood up from his seat and grabbed his jacket, slipping it over his shoulders as he stood by Malia. "Come on, Mal. That ship is a treasure trove just waiting to be plundered. Adventurers dream of this. Besides..." He zipped up his jacket, giving his most charming smile (though he was sure she'd built up an immunity). "What would I do without my partner?"

Malia glanced over her shoulder at him. "You'll manage."

Peter furrowed his brow as Malia walked off. "You can keep whatever you find. It'll be fun." He gestured at her attire. "You're already dressed for the occasion. Come on." Malia stopped to tap her headlamp as it completely went off. "Why don't you want to go?"

"Cause, there's a chance you can go missing in there," Malia looked up, keeping her back toward Peter and covered her mouth to stifle in her laugh. She started to shake her shoulders, unable to wipe the smile from her lips and pretended to cry for dramatic effect. “And…,” She huffed in a breath and turned to face him, wiping away an invisible tear. “Why would I ruin the chance?” She took the opportunity to giggle over her playful confession while he murmured something she couldn’t quite hear and thrusted the empty mercenary bag into his hands. “Besides, you only have one helmet and I—,” She waved her hand over her suit. “Don’t think this thing has any magical oxygen supply.”

Peter shrugged as he looked her suit over. "You could always hold your breath." He smirked at her unamused reaction and slung the bag over his shoulder. From the ship to that hatch wasn't all that far, especially with his boot jets. It wouldn't be comfortable, but he could hold his breath for the few seconds it would take if Malia opened the hatch for him. He'd survived longer exposure... barely. "How about this? You head out first with my helmet and open the hatch so I can follow?" Malia raised her brow, folding her arms across her chest. "Or you could just test that suit of yours in space."

Malia looked up at Peter for a brief minute and pressed one of the hidden buttons located on her wrists. “Keep your stinky mask.” As the familiar glowy veil aligned her body in it’s blue light, she grabbed for another empty bag and walked off toward the pit’s ladder. “I’m only going cause someone has to supervise you.” She expressed while she made her way down the steps and stuck out her tongue at him before reaching the lower deck. Truth be told, she wasn’t planning on staying alone in the Milano. She just wanted him to think that. She never really had gone scavenging with Peter. More often than not, she stayed on board the ship in case of emergencies. 

“Are you coming, Star-Dumb?” Positioning herself beside the closed hangar door, Malia placed her hand over the lever and glanced over her shoulder as Peter climbed down, feeling her nerves start to kick in. “I’ll wait in here till you open the hatch,” She took a small pause and gripped the levers knob. “Just in case this suit isn’t space proof.” She waited for his helmet to be initiated then lowered the handle slowly enough to allow small amounts of air in. Her suit reacted to the change in pressure by changing color, causing her to gasp from surprise. “Or maybe not?” She nervously giggled as soon as the hangar door was fully open. “Still, you opened that hatch.”

Peter nodded before grabbing a cable that was built into the wall and stepping out into the void of space. He let the familiar weightlessness take him and gently carry him out into the darkness. After a few seconds he activated the jets on his boots and pushed forwards towards the hatch. It'd looked like an airlock, which was what Peter was hoping it was. That would mean a secondary door on the inside that would cut them off from the outside. Peter reached out and grabbed the hatch, looking it over. It hadn't been made to open from the outside, but that wouldn't stop him. He scanned the rim, looking for where the door was attached to the ship. Once he found it he drew one of his quad blasters and lined up the shot. Two in the hinges, one in the locking mechanism. 

He returned his gun to his waist and wedged his gloved fingers into the hole he'd made. Peter pulled as hard as he could, the door fighting against him as it creaked and groaned. After a minute or two I've metal slab finally broke free, nearly sending Peter floating off into space with it. Peter peered inside. It was, in fact, an airlock. He slipped inside, floating off to the side and tying his end of the cable to a metal pipe. Peter pulled the line tight before returning to the hole he'd made and gesturing for Malia to follow. Even with the help of the cable, she'd never experienced weightlessness before. To say he was looking forward to watching her fumble around in the vacuum of space was an understatement as just the thought made a grin cross his face. 

“Okay,” Malia held onto the side of the hangar and paused momentarily to measure the distance between her and the hatch. From what she could tell, it was about a three-feet gap she could possibly jump, if she calmly leaped forward. In theory that sounded more easier said than done, but she figured she had to dig up some courage and just do it. Inching her feet closer to the edge of the hangar, she glided her brown eyes over to Peter and glared at him, knowing full-well he was smiling underneath his helmet. His cheeky stance practically said it all. He was patiently waiting for her to make a fool of herself out there and she certainly wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. 

Taking in a deep breath, Malia closed her eyes and repeated one of the many yoga mantras she usually poked fun of on her TV. It went something along the lines of experiencing tranquility? Yeah. Easing your mind and calming your soul. She fluttered her eyes open as she found an inkling of courage to see Peter beckon her over again, and spontaneously leaped forward into open space. She let her body go limp, allowed the gravity to slowly keep her afloat and reached for the wire Peter had taken to reel herself in toward the hatch. As her feet touched it’s flat surface, she smiled and turned toward him with a wink. “Bet you didn’t see that coming?” She blurted, feeling quite proud of her landing.

Peter sighed, his slight disappointment coming and going rather quickly. That feeling was, oddly enough, replaced by pride. For all of her talk of hating it and gaps in knowledge, she was more than capable of holding her own in his often chaotic adventures. A far cry from the stowaway that'd spent her first steps into the stars huddled in a corner. Practically a different person then the lost girl he'd sworn to get back home just a few months prior. Now, here she was gracefully and admittedly quite beautifully floating through space in her way to explore the old corpse of a ship that could hold absolutely anything. 

"Peter?"

Peter shook himself from his thoughts and realized he'd been wordlessly staring at her since she'd reached the ship. "Huh? Oh, you made it? Beginner's Luck." He pushed himself into the airlock, floating towards the door as Malia mumbled something inaudible outside. Peter looked at the panel next to the door, surprised by the faint glow the screen gave off. "This place is still running."

Malia joined him, just as graceful as she'd been outside. "That's more than can be said for Milano."

Peter held up a finger. "Now, we don't know if it's the battery."

The look Malia gave him confirmed his suspicion that she didn't buy that lie. "We do, you know we do. Just admit I was right."

Peter tapped the pad and the small screen buzzed to flickering life. "I'll die before I give you the satisfaction."

Malia nodded. "Given your lifestyle, probably. 'Here lies Star-Dumb, killed by a space STD'."

Peter studied the pad as Malia quietly laughed to herself. Once he pressed the button to get them in the ship, the vacuum effect would be pretty violent until he got to the other pad and shut the door. "So, you're gonna wanna hold onto something." 

"Oh boy—!" Malia braced herself for whatever turbulence was heading their way and wrapped her arms around the thin pipe that was near the airlock. "Just hurry up." Gripping onto the cold metal bar as Peter pressed a button on the door’s pad, she felt her body jolt forward from the massive wind pressure that abruptly initiated afterward. It felt as if she was being sucked into an unapologetic black hole. Her hair whipped wildly around her as she held on for dear life, squinting her eyes. “Any day now!” She followed Peter as he made his way toward the second door pad amidst the raging wind, finally landing near the panel and successfully tapping it’s screen.

“I don’t want to ever do that again.” Nearly falling over, Malia wobbled on her feet, trying to regain her composure again after the vacuum effect she just went through. She’d honestly choose to jump off the Milano and into open space any time instead of securing an airlock to board another ship for the rest of her time up here. She was sure Peter was used to all these dangerous, scavenger hurdles, but — she was not. And didn’t want to be either. She was perfectly fine with staying on board the ship. Or in Scott’s position, being the back up to the back up. She smiled, recalling the events of Stark’s Christmas bash and her time with Scott, forgetting about Peter.

“Uh, Mal?”

“Y-Yeah?” Malia snapped herself out of her reverie at the sound of Peter’s voice and looked up, gently pushing her body away from the wall. “I’m okay.” She let out a nervous laugh as she walked to his side and fixed her disheveled hair. She wondered what Scott was up to. Had he forgotten about her? And Happy. Maybe...Her last few lingering thoughts slowly faded as her eyes wandered over the room they were in, no longer subjugating the small space but rather a suit hanger of sorts. In various capsules were space suits, locked away. Under the dim lighting they gave off the same ominous feel the ship itself gave from the outside. Something just didn’t sit right. 

“What if this ship isn’t abandoned and there are people on the other side of that door?” She cautiously whispered to Peter, starting to feel anxious and gave him a skeptical look. They could essentially be walking into a trap or worse and not even know it. Taking the quick opportunity to glance at one of the capsicle besides her while he retracted his helmet, Malia inched her face closer to the dirtied glass and noticed a name tag located across the suit’s breast pocket. Ellen, it read. She moved onto the next glass over and paused as she was unable to make out the name. “Ready?” She heard Peter say from behind her, causing her turn with knitted brows.

“Didn’t you just hear what I said?” She pressed, letting her hands fall on either side of her in an exhausted manner. “I personally don’t want to get shot in the face or leg or…,” She sparactly lifted her hands up to wave them around her body. “—ANYWHERE for that matter.” She made sure she was away from the door before continuing and pointed at Peter with a bashful grin placed across her lips. “But, if you want to get shot, then by all means.” She shrugged her shoulders as she hid herself in between the large suit capsules and motioned for him to open the door. She was usually right half the time after all. So, for safe measure, she’d wait for the all clear or barrage of bullets.

Peter sighed as Malia disappeared behind one of the suits. "Fine, just means I'll get the first pick of what's in here. And don't think I won't take lady clothes just to spite you, because I will." Thing was, for all he knew she was completely right. With the electrical stuff in the Milano fried the typical scanning hadn't been an option. But, come on, the ship looked completely dead from the outside, and the inside wasn't much different. The power that the ship did have seemed limited. Why else wouldn't it be moving? He just hoped that there was a spare battery or two sitting around. 

He had to admit that a part of him didn't like the vibe of this place, but a bigger part of him liked free stuff. Peter drew one of his blasters, aiming at the door as he reached for the pad to open it. After quickly pressing the button, Peter drew his second weapon. The door creaked before giving off a loud hiss, spraying mist into the room. It groaned as it slowly raised open and flashing orange light spilled through. Peter couldn't help but smile. Just a good old fashioned bit of exploration laden adventure, like he used to do way back when. 

The door opened fully into a long corridor. Trash and other such debris lay scattered about the floor, bathed in the swirling orange flashes that permeated the area. Peter took his first steps forward, scanning the hall for anything of value. The silence was deafening, only being broken by the occasional drip from a ceiling vent. "Come on, Mal."

Malia blinked, gripping her hands together and slowly moved herself along the side of the wall with caution. “You sure?” She pressed her body up against it’s solid surface and poked her head out once she reached the door panel. “Where...is everyone?” She wondered out loud as she took in the hall’s emptiness before stepping inside. The ship was really abandoned or at least seemed like it. There was nothing but littered garbage around. “So much for scavenging.” She huffed, feeling a bit disappointed. Behind all her anxiety, she was hoping they would find some items of worth. Sooner rather than later, the worry of money would come up. The food and supplies she had bought on earth before their take off wouldn’t exactly last forever. 

Adjusting the strap of her bag, Malia slung the satchel across her chest and followed Peter silently out of the long corridor and into the neighboring room. Instead of another hallway she was half expecting, they were met with an enormous change. An Interlocking facility that looked in need of hours of cleaning and fixing. Besides the familiar sight of garbage lying around, she noticed strange graffiti markings scattered on the walls being illuminated by the faulty lights and electrical wires dangling out of place. “What happened here?” She heard herself say as she stopped amidst a pile of toppled boxes and turned to look over at Peter. “Maybe we should go back.”

Malia wasn’t up to par with the vibe she was getting from the inside of the ship. It looked too unkempt. Not in your abandon sort of way — but in the something bad happened here. She hesitantly lifted one of the boxes in front of her and peeked inside the open one beneath it, finding leftover bolts and security tags. “Doesn’t look like anything here will be useful.” She gently let go of the empty box, before turning her attention toward Peter’s retreating figure. He poked around the room, flashlight in hand, having about the same luck she had; zilch. As he disappeared behind the large pillar in the room, she sprinted in his direction. 

“Peter, don’t—!” Her few words almost immediately were replaced by her scream as the sound of some sort of metal scraping filled her ears. Leaping over to the side with her hand pressed against her frantic heartbeat, she saw the source of the noise and nervously laughed. It was a vent opening from contact. She let out a shaky breath, trying to calm her nerves and took out her faulty headlamp. Once it was secured around her forehead, she flicked on it’s light and curiously looked inside. “I definitely don’t want to go in there.” She said to herself as she arched her head forward, having the light from the headlamp illuminate the crawl space that outstretched to the other side. “It connects somewhere else?” 

Wanting to throw something at the closed hatch a few feet away, Malia felt around the inside of the vent for any loose bolts. Maybe the room on the other side had something of worth. If it were her personally she wouldn’t go crawling around in such a tight space, so she assumed whatever scavengers or looters that came aboard the ship wouldn’t either. She learned a handful of them weren’t that smart to begin with. Peter was one of them after all. “Yes!” Finding a couple of circular head screws near the vent’s entrance, she lobbed them at the closed hatch in hopes it would open. “Come on.” She threw another one then paused as she saw it budge a little. 

As she attempted to throw another bolt at the hatch, completely unaware of her body’s position, she let out a deafening shriek, feeling someone touch her behind. Her head collided with the metal of the vent as she tried to push herself frantically out and hit whomever stood outside. “I should’ve known!” Seeing Peter’s familiar face, Malia slapped him across the arm and continued to do so as his amused laughter reached her ears. “You pervert, I hit my head because of you.” She bombarded him with curse words while her hands collided with the material of his jacket. He scared her half to death. “And who gave you permission to touch my butt?”

Peter held up a hand to defend himself from Malia's barrage as he laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He ventured a peek at her as the assault subsided and she hit him with one of her glares. "I only grazed it and it was an accident, scout's honor." 

Malia shot up her eyebrows. "I don't believe you."

Peter put a hand on his chest. "I'm hurt. If you can't trust me, who can you trust?" He adjusted the strap of his bag that Malia had knocked loose. "But,if it'll make you feel any better, you can touch my butt."

Malia shook her head and sighed deeply. "Shut up. You find anything?"

Peter glanced at the vent she'd been in when he found her. "Nothing'. What about you? Anything in there?"

“I dunno,” Malia huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Thanks to your grabby hands, I couldn’t tell.” She waved one of her own over the opening of the vent and bent down to point inside of it once the small hatch had opened. “There's another shaft down there, connected to this one.” She clarified, looking up at Peter. She narrowed her eyes, noticing his lack of attention and pulled him by his collar. “See?” She illuminated the vent with her headlamp as he squinted his blue eyes and pointed toward the closed entry located across from them. “There could be something of worth in there...but you know what?” Pushing herself away from the vent and Peter himself, she turned to look at the room's surroundings. “Let’s look around first.”

Walking off toward one of the interlocking passages, Malia began to dig around, taking in more of the ship’s atmosphere. There was a lot more, the pillar covered much to her surprise. Like doors, which were locked and directional signs, pointing to varies hidden corridors. She tried her luck with one of the rooms she passed and attempted to open it. As she heard the whooshing sound of the door’s sealing mechanism, she lifted her brows. “It opened!” Cautiously taking a step inside, she waited for the automatic lights to flicker on. As they did, she glanced over at Peter who made his way toward her and paused. “Hopefully there's something in here,” She heavily let out in a sigh. She knew only mere minutes had passed, but to her they were starting to feel like hours. 

Malia decided to remain in silence as her and Peter began to rummage around until her curiosity got the better of her. She needed to know something that had been bugging her. While he opened a few drawers and preoccupied himself with the components inside of them, she stopped amidst the computer desk in the room and pressed random keys on it’s keyboard. “So, is Ms. Little Bo Peep going to be boarding the Milano anytime soon?” She asked, making sure she emphasized her words by practically hissing them at him. “I rather know now so I can make earplugs a priority during this scavenge.” She added, coyly. Even though Peter’s lack of common sense and courtesy never ceased to amaze her, she figured asking him up front would save her the trouble.

Peter glanced up from his little stash of scrap and shut the drawer. His mind wandered back to his little escapade with that girl shortly after they'd left earth. He'd stopped them off at a way station of sorts to grab a couple small things they'd needed. Place had a bar, a bar had a girl and alcohol, Peter had low standards, and the rest is history. Well, it would've been if Malia hadn't walked in on them. "Uh, no. Pretty sure we won't be going back for a visit. And even if we did, I'm certain you scared her off for good."

Malia shrugged. "I can live with that."

Peter shook his head at the memory of that night. It was an incident that neither of them had really revisited since it had happened, no need to make it awkward with your only company. "Why were you so mad about it anyway?"

Malia furrowed her brow, giving Peter her full attention. Looking at her, he regretted the question. "Well, for starters you two were in my room. On my bed!"

Peter paused, trying to think back to the events of that night. "Really?"

Malia cocked her head. "Yeah, did you not notice when I put the mattress out the airlock?"

Peter stared at her for a few seconds. "I... I did not. Geez, I must have been pretty loaded to get that lost."

Malia folded her arms across her chest. "Must've."

Peter looked down at a discarded magazine on the ground, kicking it over to look at the cover. "What about after the starters?"

Malia furrowed her brow. "What?"

Peter looked back at her, furrowing his brow. "You said that was why you were mad 'for starters'. What else got you so bent out of shape?" He couldn't think of a reason on his own. They were just friends, despite any... stuff that may or may not be between them. It's not like they were a couple or anything. 

Malia looked up at Peter in silence, unsure of what to say. She could tell him the truth, admit that, yes, she felt some sort of way toward him and his plain disregard for their unspoken thing — but she couldn't bring herself to say that. Maybe she should’ve never brought it up to begin with. It was her decision to let things take their written course after all. Now, here she was feeling angry about it. She let out a heavy sigh, averting his eyes and turned to look at the computer’s green screen. As her eyes glided over the word: seegson, she pressed the enter key and spoke after a few minutes of awkward silence between them. “Your lack of common sense.” 

She knew that was one way of dodging the heart of his question. But — what she said was true. He wasn’t as stupid as he led most people to believe. “Look, Peter.” Malia tore her gaze away from the loading screen and faced him. “I don’t care if you bring five weird alien girls into the Milano,” She boldly lied, trying to make herself sound believable. “Just...I dunno. Warn me first or something.” She allowed the corners of her mouth to lift momentarily into a small smile, not wanting her lies to show, before continuing. “How would you feel if I brought some guy to my room unannounced and made tons of inappropriate noise?” 

As she opened her mouth to say another thing, a light beeping from the computer drew her attention away. She figured it was best she leave it at that for now. Some of her words held truth to them. Even if part of her wanted to scream at him, she couldn’t force what she wanted to hear out of him. It just wouldn’t be right. Focusing on the manual options on the screen before her, Malia knitted her brows together as each selection came up invalid with a big, ‘error,’ sign. No kind of control access whatsoever. Trying the rest of the unclicked folders, she scrolled down to personal and froze upon reading it’s titled name; Emergency Lockdown. 

“I knew it,” She whispered, glancing over at Peter with concern lodged over her features. “To, R. Ellen,” She began to read out loud the delivered message she had clicked on. “We have reason to believe there is an unidentified entity aboard the USCSS Torrens. Please initiate Emergency Protocols until further notice.” Malia backed away from the computer desk the minute she finished the brief text and adjusted the strap of her bag nervously. “That’s why this ship looks the way it does!” She unexpectedly blurted, feeling something wet drip on her shoulder. A gasp escaped from her mouth as her eyes gilded upward toward an open ventilation vent that had gone unnoticed. 

“There’s something up there.” Malia slowly backed herself away from the vent’s territory at the sound of movement being heard across it’s metal. She beckoned Peter, who still stood on the other side of the room over and felt her heartbeat pick up. When he moved toward her an inch, she let out a scream as a body abruptly emerged from the vent opening and dropped itself between them, covered in black ooze. She felt her back hit the doorway as her shouts soon filled the air and the body contorted itself up to its feet. “What is that thing?”

Peter instinctively drew his blasters and took aim at the twitching form. "Creepy and dead! Duck!" He waited until Malia lowered herself and unleashed fiery blasts with both weapons. The... whatever it was dropped low to the ground and scuttled away into the shadows. Peter kept his guns trained on the spot the thing had disappeared into, glancing briefly at Malia to see if she was okay. He breathed a sigh of relief as she uncovered her head with her arms and looked around. Peter gestured for her to join him, his eyes never leaving the shadows. 

Malia took a cautious step forward, panic written on her face. Peter hadn't even had time to process what that thing had been before he'd fired at it, but he took comfort in the fact that with the way it moved it had to be bad. Good things didn't f*cking twitch all scary like. He glanced again at Malia to see her still making her way towards him. She suddenly let out a shriek and was swept off of her feet and onto the ground. Peter dashed after her as something unseen dragged her towards the shadows. He quickly holstered his weapons and dove forward, grabbing her forearms to keep her from going any further. Whatever had her was strong, taking nearly all of Peter's strength to keep her from moving. And even with that, she was slipping. 

Peter met Malia's terror filled eyes and shook his head, refusing to let her slip any further. He let go with one hand, wincing as she desperately clung to his other one. "Peter!"

Peter quickly drew a blaster, aiming at the darkness behind Malia as both of their grips continued to slip. He fired three shots in rapid succession, each illuminating the blackness enough to see the dark form that gripped Malia. The thing let out a hissing shriek as the shots burned into it and Malia was free. Peter got to his feet, pulling Malia up with him and practically dragging her with him as he ran out of the room. They exploded into the hall they'd come in from, breathing as though they'd just ran a marathon. "Where the hell did we come from?!"

Malia held up a hand, pointing towards one of the doors. "There."

That was enough for Peter as he took off towards the entryway. The door hissed open as they approached, letting out a bit of steam as it did. They continued in towards the next door on the other side, shutting behind them as they entered. Peter was running so fast he practically collided with the metal door as it didn't open for them. "What?!" He banged on the door, shouting curses as it refused to budge. Malia desperately tapped away at the panel to no avail. "Step back." Peter raised his blaster and fired a shit, obliterating the panel. Still the door didn't move. 

Malia looked from the panel to Peter. "Why did you do that?!"

Peter gestured around him as though the answer were obvious. "That always works!"

Malia ran her hands down her face. "What the hell was that?"

Peter shook his head, taking a step back as he tried to figure out what he'd seen. He was about to answer when a hiss from behind him sent his heart into his throat. Instinctively he whipped around, raising his weapon. The vent, the one Malia had been looking inside earlier, stood open. Peter glanced at the door they'd come in, then at the vent and finally Malia. "Get in there."

Malia's eyes shot open. "What?!"

Peter grabbed her by one of her shoulders. "Mal, that thing is going to come in here all piss and vinegar any second, and I may have broken that door. It's too fast, I don't think I can get it before it gets one of us. So, go through to that room on the other side while covering you. Once you do, I'll follow and then we'll get out of here." Malia considered his words before silently heading to the vent. She climbed inside and started to crawl through the tight space. Peter peered in after her. "And, Mal?"

Malia glanced back. "Yeah?"

Peter gave her a small smile. "Not that we need it, but if you happen to see a battery...,"

Malia gave a small laugh before continuing on her path. Peter turned to face the door, bending his neck to one side and letting it crack. He took a few deep breaths and his blasters. His heart thundered away in his chest as he kept watch. He'd never been so terrified, or at least couldn't remember when he'd last been. Whatever that thing was, it was truly just the absolute scariest. Peter jumped as the vent behind him slid shut. He turned around, waving a hand over the motion detector to open it. Nothing. Panic started to creep over him as he desperately fiddled with the device. "Mal!" He banged on the vent, his mind racing. His else would he be able to even... he froze as the sound of a door hissing open behind him filled the room.

“Peter!?” Malia looked over her shoulder as the vent behind her automatically closed and remained shut against his frantic banging. She felt her breath hitch at the sound of him call out her name then fall to utter silence. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out of it, as she awkwardly tried to turn around in the cramped space. From outside, the malicious hissing of the thing they came across could be heard, followed by the sound of Peter’s blasters. As his screams then reached her ears, she frantically crawled over to the other side and lunged herself out of the vent in hopes of finding a way back to him. But— there was none. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another part-er chapter! I hope you guys don't mind cause there's too much writing to chop and cliffhangers can be good.


	16. Chapterb 12 (pt. 2)

The vent had led Malia into a smaller room with no doors. Quickly slamming the palm of her hand against the red button near the vent she had crawled out of, she waited for it’s entry way to open and let out a cry when nothing happened. Malia could barely hear anything as she attempted to force open the hatch itself with her bare hands, knowing Peter had made a run for it with that thing close behind. Or so she hoped. She didn’t even know what to call it. She knew it wasn’t human. While she did see some sort of body underneath the black slime, the thing seemed to be almost controlling it. Forcing herself to calm down, she turned her attention toward the room.

“I just need to get out of here, and find Peter.” Her eyes scanned around the environment, landing on lives in materials. Someone had or was living in between the vent passages as she noticed a sleeping bag thrown in the corner and emptied protein wrappers scattered about the floor. The person even had a working radio and coffee maker! Malia decided upon those surprising finds to grab whatever she could find which led to being: batteries, medical supplies and instant bread packages? She looked over the material rather confused before stuffing it inside her bag. She couldn’t leave from where she came; the other vent in the room being the only way out. 

Hesitantly crawling inside the hatch, Malia turned on her faulty headlamp and let out a heavy sigh before making her way toward its exit. “Please be in a safe room,” She whispered to herself as she peeked her head out and looked around for any signs of life. Nothing. Only the eerie sounds of the ship’s malfunction systems were heard, echoing off the metal. And no Peter. She walked away from the vent as she left it, adjusted the strap of her satchel and bit the insides of her cheek. She didn’t know what to do. Find a way back or wait for Peter to make his way toward her? Looking toward either side of her, she ducked behind a cabinet as two figures emerged.

* * *

Peter stumbled out into the hall, still trying to shake off the attack. After the vent had shut him off from following Malia, that thing had jumped him. It was fast, insanely fast, and strong too. He'd managed to get one fiery shot on it which sent it shrieking into the vents above. Couldn't even be sure if he'd hurt it or just scared it as fast as it'd all happened. Even if he had done some damage, he sure hadn't gotten off easy. When it'd found him it had slammed it's full weight into him. Damn things felt like getting hit by a freighter. That first hit had made his skull bounce off the wall like a rubber ball, jostling his brain around pretty good. But what concerned him most was the cut. The thing had gotten in a swipe with it's talon like claws, catching his torso. Both his jacket and shirt underneath had been cut to ribbons as he'd been slit from chest to belly. Not so deep as to cause vital damage, but enough to be worried about. 

He put his hand on the wall, trying to regain his composure. His eyes darted around the hall. He'd been cut off from both the Milano and Malia, almost as though the ship itself had intended it. A map would do wonders right now. Peter continued forward, leaving a crimson hand print on the wall. He had to find Malia. He'd barely survived his scrap with that thing strapped with his blasters, and she was unarmed. It'd been him that'd talked her into coming with him, and if she got - Peter cut off that line of thinking, not wanting to even imagine the scenario. 

The first door that Peter saw with a working pad next to it he opened. It looked like a dining room, but the place was a wreck. Food items lay scattered all over the floor and the round table in the middle had been tipped over. One part of the table was much darker than the rest. It was hard to tell in the low light, but Peter assumed it was blood. He glanced over his shoulder to see that the wall was spattered with it as well. Peter took a seat in the chair closest to him, wincing as his torso burned with the movement. He peeled off his shredded jacket and shirt before giving his wounds a look. Hopefully he'd find something to patch himself up while he was looking for Malia as this room was sparse with items of use. "Oh well." Peter stood up, holding his torso as he did. "Better get going."

* * *

All Malia could do was look on as the two individuals entered the tattered room she was in. She had been so preoccupied in her own thoughts, she had nearly been seen by them before she found a place to hide in. Most, if not all of her suspicions were right about the ship. Something had happened inside the Torrens, leaving it close to abandoned with crew members still inside. The two who stood not far from her viewpoint were proof of that, along with the conversation she was starting to tune in to. It was a woman and man — doctor by the look of his stained lab coat who appeared in their late forties. They stopped amidst the middle of the room and spoke in hushed tones.

The woman with mossy styled brown hair, sternly asserted, “Dr. Lingard, who boarded our ship?” 

“I don’t know, scavengers perhaps?” The man in front of her replied nervously. “I-I...may have—,”

“What?” Malia leaned herself in a bit forward as the woman pressed for an answer. She was sure the doctor was speaking about Peter and her. It was strange the vent behind her had sealed off when before it automatically opened upon any type of motion. But, why would he do it? They didn’t look dangerous. Because of his decision, Peter could be dead! She closed her eyes shut momentarily to drive the image out of her head and continued to focus on the rest of the exchange between the strangers. Maybe the doctor knew where Peter had headed and his location. 

Lingard adjusted his cracked glasses. “I may have separated them. For good reason, Ellen.” 

“Which was?” Ellen placed a lazy hand on her hip and cocked her head to one side. “Lingard?”

The frazzled doctor took a minute to respond. “Our entity was after one of them; the girl to be exact.” He began to say while wringing his hands. “When she entered the vent, I manually closed it from our communication corner, leaving it at bay with the man she boarded with.” Lingard paused in his speech afterward as Ellen let out a heavy sigh and shook her head in a disappointed manner. She opened her mouth, but was interrupted by her colleague who raised both his hands up defensively. “You see it was after her. We can use that to lure the creature off, allowing us to escape!” 

Amidst his passionate clarification, Ellen repeated his name multiple times before raising one of her hands to stop him completely. “Lingard! You do not make decisions without my consent. That thing goes from host to host. Where is the man she boarded on with? Was he inhabited? And the girl?” She demanded, raising her tone of voice. She waited for the doctor to come to his senses again, then turned in the direction Malia was hiding in as the sound of metal being moved was heard. Her hand quickly retrieved her pistol while Lingard shuffled behind her and cowered, whispering, ‘it couldn’t be in here with them.’ 

‘Damn it!’ Malia cursed under her breath, having let her hand push the cabinet forward from the weight she pressed against it while she listened in. She ducked further down behind it’s cover and thought about what to do next. She couldn’t run without the risk of being shot at or attempt sliding into the vent again. Ellen didn’t seem like the type to shoot at someone who willingly stepped forward, so she opted for the peaceful white flag action instead. “I don’t want any trouble!” She blurted out, causing Lingard to jump from her voice. She slowly revealed one hand then the next as she stood out from her hiding place. 

“I just want to find my friend and leave. We just boarded to find a battery for our ship.” She felt like she needed to debunk any of Dr. Lingard’s hidden suspicions right away since he wanted to use her as some sort of bait and be truthful to gain at least the upper hand. “Please,” Malia added in with concern lodged in her brown eyes. She looked in between Ellen and Lingard for any immediate reaction and lowered her hands once the gun was put away. ‘Now with that out of the way,’ She said to herself, feeling relieved, ‘she could focus on finding Peter,’ or try to. As she attempted to speak after a minute of silence, Ellen spoke first.

_ “Let’s find your friend.” _

* * *

Peter peered around the corner to find yet another dim corridor. He cautiously stepped out, keeping both of his blasters raised as he started down the hall. Items of every sort lay scattered about, but Peter's mind had shifted completely from the scavenging mission. He glanced down, catching his reflection in a pool of liquid and shaking his head. It looked like he'd been through a war after just one run in with that damn thing. He'd begrudgingly left his jacket, as it was obviously beyond repair. His shirt had seen it's last day too as he had torn that to pieces to use as makeshift bandages for his wound. And that was another thing. 

Peter looked around, hoping to find a med bay or something. The cut that that thing had given him may be worse than he'd initially thought. It'd taken some doing with his 'bandages' to get it to stop bleeding, and even then it was seeping through the cloth. He needed to get back to the Milano. There were at least some real bandages there and some other stuff. But he didn't know how to get to it, and even if he did there was no chance he'd leave Malia. 

Peter's eyes glanced down yet another corridor as he reached a cross in the path. This one was sealed off by a pretty hefty looking door with big glass sections on either side. 'Locked, I'm sure' he said to himself as he started to leave. Just as he did some motion on the other side of the door caught his eye. His breath hitched as that thing immediately came to mind. But, what if it was Malia? Even if it was a slight chance he had to check. He started for the door, tripping as a sudden wave if nausea overtook him. Shaking his head, he continued, hoping that if it had been Malia that she hadn't walked by. 

He reached the door, leaning on the wall beside it for support as he tapped his blaster in the glass. After a few seconds a face appeared in the window. It was a woman, all disheveled and serious. Her eyes found Peter and she gestured at the pad beside him. Peter pressed the pad and a speaker near it crackled to life, followed by a voice. "Who are you?"

Peter sighed, oddly glad just to have the silence of the place broken. "Star-Lord."

The woman furrowed her brow. "There was a third one of you?" She glanced over her shoulder. "This is no time to be lying."

Peter shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

Another voice came through the speaker, quieter than the first. "No, that's Peter!"

The woman stepped aside and a rush of relief hit him as Malia peered through the glass. Peter put a hand on the glass, tapping it as a smile crossed his face. "Some first scavenging run, huh?"

“Yeah,” Malia lifted the corners of her mouth into a smile, feeling relieved to see Peter again. She was starting to believe she would never find him. With Doctor Lingard’s persistent detours and stop at their communication center, her hopes were diminishing by the second back there. But — everything worked out. He was safe and okay…? Her gleeful thought faded into a dark corner of her mind as her brown eyes locked onto the smear of blood his hand left on the glass. She pressed her face up against the window, with panic, to peer further out and look at his form before anyone could notice.

“Peter…,” She looked up at him the minute her gaze found his terrible wound and knitted her brows together in worry. He gave her an apologetic expression in response and she rolled her eyes, not wanting to laugh at his nonchalant attitude. Malia hated how he could just take her out of her gloom with his dumb misplaced humor. Covering the handprint he left stained on the glass with her own hand as if she was returning the gesture he made, she turned to glance directly at Ellen. “Can we please let him in?” She asked, pushing herself a bit from the door to see her reaction. 

Doctor Lingard took a hesitant step forward, causing Ellen to shift her attention toward her friend's skepticism. He raised a finger in the air then adjusted his glasses as if he were looking for the right words to say. Malia stared at him, the awkward silence starting to make her anxious. ‘What was with him?’ She wondered as he finally spoke. “I believe we should leave him outside,” His gaze directed itself toward Ellen, before his finger rose again and pointed at the door. “We can’t allow stupid mistakes like that!” He added without a stutter. “Who's to say that thing isn’t just waiting for us to open the door.”

“Lingard, you need to calm down and think rationally here.” Ellen stated, obviously growing annoyed.

Lingard scoffed in response. “And you need to take immediate precautions!”

Malia looked on between the two then back at Peter. She didn’t really have a choice but to tell them. “He’s hurt!” Taking her hand off the glass, she walked into their circle. “We can’t leave him out there.” 

“What!? That’s even worse. What did I tell you?” Lingard exclaimed rather loudly. He threw his hands up in the air in disbelief as he took in Ellen’s calm exterior then turned to Malia. His glare burned almost into her face. “Sorry, but your boyfriend isn’t coming in here.” 

Malia stepped closer to him and shouted, “He isn’t infected, you asshole!”

“Yet, you dumb girl. Yet. I demand—,”

“Absolutely nothing.” Ellen interjected as she made her way toward the door. “I will check him myself before allowing him inside.” She retrieved her pistol from it’s holster and sternly glanced at Lingard. “Remember who's in charge here.” 

Malia let out a whispered, ‘thank you,’ upon hearing Ellen’s decision, still wanting to give Doctor Lingard a piece of her mind. She understood his overbearing caution, she really did, but Peter didn’t look like the guy that had dropped from the vent. There was no black material on him. Lingard just wanted to work with fear not common sense. Closing the door as Ellen stepped outside, she pressed her face again up to the glass to watch. Even if she knew Peter wasn’t infected, she still prayed for the confirmation.

Peter glanced up as the woman kept her distance, noticing the gun in her hand. She eyed him for a few seconds before finally speaking. "Put your weapons on the ground at your feet."

Peter glanced down at his blasters, shaking his head. "No way. I'm not disarming myself with that thing running around."

Ellen tensed up and was about to say something when the speaker crackled again to life. "Peter, it's okay. Just listen to her, please."

Peter looked over at Malia as she silently pleaded with him through the bloodstained glass. He sighed, dropping his weapons to the ground. "You Ellen?" The woman furrowed her brow before Peter pointed at the speaker. "Heard it all."

Ellen nodded, putting her pistol away. "Then you know I'm here to look you over. How bad are you hurt?"

Peter chuckled and waved off the question. "Eh, it's just a scratch. I've had much worse."

Ellen raised her brow. "You can drop all that stuff, because I don't buy it." She nodded towards the door. "And she can't hear it."

Peter was taken aback for a few moments before he decided to do what she'd said and drop his bravado and humor. His shoulders slumped immediately as his walls went down. "It's just as much for my sanity, you know?" Ellen ignored him and gestured at his wound. He sighed, glancing down at the mess of his torso. "It's deeper than I thought. I've lost more blood than I'd care to in a day."

Ellen stepped forward and flicked on a light that was attached to her suit. "Your arms." Peter obliged her and lifted his arms enough so she could see all of the damage. "That thing do this?"

Peter sighed. "Well, I didn't do it to myself." Ellen looked up and met Peter's eyes, her serious look making his good nature dampen even further. "Yeah, it caught me with it's claws or whatever."

Ellen gingerly removed the bandages, making Peter wince with every motion. She studied the wound for a while before standing back up and meeting his eyes. "How are you?"

Peter stole a glance at Malia and shrugged. "I'm fine." Ellen cocked her head slightly and silently awaited a different answer. Peter sighed as the last of his defenses were demolished by this woman he'd never met before. "I'm f*cking terrified, lost and pretty pissed off at Poindexter in there for calling my partner 'dumb'. Is there anything else you want to drag out of me?"

A hint of a smile played at one side of Ellen's mouth as she tapped the speaker. Ellen bent down and picked up his blasters, clipping them to her belt. "You put me or anyone else at risk and I won't hesitate to drop you. Understood." Peter nodded. "He's clear. We're coming in." The door clicked as it started to open and Ellen looked Peter over again. "Not that it's any of my business, but if that's how you act all the time I think your partner could use a little bit of, well, the genuine thing."

Peter glanced at the floor as the door continued to noisily rise. He still didn't like dropping his defenses around Malia because frankly, it scared him. He'd lost everyone he'd opened up to some way or another and knew he couldn't afford to lose her. So, even though he loved having her around, he kept her at a safe distance. For both of their sakes. "You're right." Peter looked up and offered a smirk. "It's not your business.

“This is a mistake!” Doctor Lingard fumed the second Ellen stepped foot inside the room with Peter at her side. He clenched both his fist into balls, visibly shaken by the decision she had made. “I am the Doctor here. Shouldn’t I have any real say on his actual condition?” He darted his beady eyes between his female colleague and unwanted guest with distaste and waited for an answer — he unfortunately did not get one. “Fine. I will not be treating any wounds.” He turned on his heel upon the rigid response of silence and walked off to the other side of the room. 

Malia’s brown eyes followed his retreating figure in utter shock from his behaviour. She never really liked Doctors to begin with for their overbearing personas. However, Lingard was one of those bent out of shape kinds that only made you worry about their state of mind. And she was already past the stage of worry; she was alarmed. Turning her gaze away toward Ellen for a brief moment, she noticed the mossy haired woman nod in her direction as if she were thinking the same thing. “Ignore him,” She uttered out before making her way toward Lingard shortly after. 

“He’s going to get himself killed,” Malia shook her head as Ellen engaged in some heavy conversation with the Doctor. She let out a heavy sigh then finally turned to Peter, feeling a wave of relief hit her frazzled nerves. “You look awful,” She noted playfully with a genuine smile that quickly faded as her attention landed back on his wound. It looked horrible. She bit the inside of her cheek and let out a small gasp as she recalled the medical supplies she had scavenged on her own. They didn’t need Lingard. Through shaky hands, she opened her satchel and pulled out all the materials. 

“I’m no Doctor,” Malia paused to mimic their rowdy physician. “But, I can be one hell of a nurse!” She scattered the items out on a nearby surface, quite unsure of her own statement and took in a deep breath. The least she could do was patch him up. She felt like that was the only thing she was good for. “Alright, I think I have everything.” She turned to Peter once she tied her hair back, tucking away it’s pesky strands and blinked up at him. “I promise I won’t kill you.”

Peter sat next to the supplies Malia had sat out so that he was at eye level with her. He kept his full attention on her as she looked over the supplies. Yet again he found himself admiring how she handled herself under such trying circumstances. He chuckled as she fumbled with a roll of medical tape. "I don't know. This may be your only chance to get rid of me without arousing suspicion."

Malia glanced up from her task, a small smile crossing her lips. "Please, we're alone in a ship all the time. I've got plenty of chances to off you."

Peter laughed, wincing as it made his wound burn. He looked past Malia as Ellen left Lingard to his moping and made her way back over to them. "Alright, I've got to try and get comms up and running again, try and get a signal out."

Peter held up a hand, trying to keep the pain out of his voice as Malia patched him up. "Not to sound like a dick or anything, but all I care about is getting the hell off of this ship. If you want you can tag along and we'll drop you off somewhere." He nodded towards Lingard. "It's a maybe for him though."

Lingard threw up his hands. "How can we even trust this... this brutish oaf."

Peter pointed at the doctor. "Don't think this cut will keep me from kicking your ass, four eyes!"

Malia put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "He's an asshole, but he's some of the only help we have."

Ellen watched both Malia and Peter intently. "Don't make me regret my choices, both of you. And we can't just leave. The research we've done here is too valuable to just leave."

Peter shrugged. "Fine, just tell us where our ship is and we'll get out of your hair." He looked at Lingard. "Sounds good, white Erkel?"

Ellen started towards a door. "We'll talk about it when I get back. Lingard," She tossed one of Peter's blasters to the doctor who fumbled with it after sloppily catching it. "only use it if absolutely necessary." She pointed at all of them then to a camera in the corner. "I'm watching. If I'm not back in ten, finish the job and fix the comms."

She left, leaving Lingard to oversee them with a smug look on his face. Malia finished bandaging Peter and began returning the supplies to her bag. Peter put a hand on hers, making her stop her task and look up at him. "How are you holding up, Mal?" 

"Me? I'm fine." Malia let Peter's hand linger over her own for a few seconds before locking her brown eyes with his blue ones. She really wasn't holding up as well as it may have appeared. She was a nervous wreck inside. There was this gut wrenching feeling poking at her that just wouldn't go away. She let out a heavy sigh amidst stealing a skeptical glance at Lingard, who stared back, then moved closer to Peter. "Okay. I'm not fine. I'm scared, you're half immobile and Ellen just left us with...!" She avoided looking toward the doctor, narrowing her eyes in his direction instead and squeezed Peter's hand for emphasis. “I don’t trust him, but we can’t just leave.”

And that was the issue. They couldn’t just up and run around a ship as big as it was, looking for an exit and...Malia cursed under her breath. ‘The battery,’ She thought to herself, lowering her eyes toward the necklace she had given Peter. It too was stained with a bit of blood. She stared at it in silence then wiped her thumb over the small spot. “Just remembered,” She gently flicked her finger overthe quartz. “We don’t have a running ship to return to either.” Lifting her head with a brief smile, she noticed how close they were to each other and awkwardly stood in place. She was going to stand her ground this time and not pull away like she had so many times before. 

“Uh-hum!” 

Doctor Lingard abruptly cleared his throat as Malia opened her mouth to say something. “Sorry to interrupt you two,” He pointed between them in annoyance, taking a step forward from the corner he was in. “But, I’m still in the room. So, If you can refrain yourselves from whatever it is you're doing, I’d highly appreciate it.” He drew out each word with distaste while he pushed up his glasses and craned out his neck, waiting for them to step away from each other. “Hello!?” Upon not seeing any mediate reaction, he took another step forward, nervously fumbling over his own feet. “I’m in charge now.” His eyes darted to and fro between the pair. “So do it!” 

“We aren’t doing anything.” Malia turned her attention toward Lingard in annoyance.

Lingard scoffed at her reply. “I have eyes, girl.” He glared over at Peter. “You and your boyfriend don’t fool me, with your ‘whispering’.” Doctor Lingard lifted his hands and made air quotes over his last word before continuing. “I know what you're doing.” He added, pointing fiercely between them. 

Malia shook her head in disbelief, covered her mouth and laughed, unable to keep a straight face for much longer. “We were just talking,” She chuckled, wondering how Ellen put up with Lingard. The guy was a frantic mess. But, at least she could thank him for taking her out of their stressful situation for whatever minutes were passing by. “Just don’t look at us. It’s that simple.” She expressed with a shrug. She watched him struggle to find any words then stalked off to his side of the room again. “I swear we were just talking,” She blurted out, turning to look at Peter. “Mad Doctor Alert.”

Peter nodded in agreement as he eyed the shifty doctor warily. "Too much time in a lab will do that to you." He noted Malia's closeness and that his hand still rested on hers. At certain times he doubted his decision to keep her at a distance to protect himself. This was one of those times. And at those times he usually defused any tension with a joke or something, but after everything that'd happened today he was finding it hard to even think straight. "Mal?"

Malia raised her brow. "Yeah?"

Peter sighed, debating whether or not to ask her the question that's been on her mind. He finally decided to do so, simply to put his mind at ease. "What the hell made you want to stay with me? After earth, I mean."

Malia blinked and stared at him blankly for a few moments. "Well..." She paused, looking around as though she were searching for the answer. After a few seconds she looked back at him and gave a smile. "I stayed because..." The answer was cut short as something grabbed Peter by the back of the head, pulling him away from Malia. "Peter!"

Peter didn't even have a chance to react as he was dragged across the floor. The grip on his head started to feel like it was spreading, covering more of him every second. He yelled as his ears were overtaken, making the chaos of the situation sound like he was hearing it from underwater. His struggles against the vice like grip were useless. Panic started to set in as the hold neared his mouth and nose. He was hoisted into the air so that he hung above the room, dangling helplessly. Lingard raised the blaster Ellen had given him and started firing wildly. 

A torrent of fiery blasts blazed past Peter, one close enough to burn his arm. He tried to shout, but the stuff had started to fill his mouth. Malia knocked the weapon from the doctor's hand and shoved him hard enough to send him crashing into a cabinet. She looked up at Peter, the horror on her face saying it all. Peter grabbed at the stuff only to have it take his hands and pin them against his chest. Blackness overtook his eyes as the darkness snaked it's way down his throat. He felt himself hoisted upward and slammed into metal before being dragged through the cramped space. 

The pain of the entity filling his wound made him want to scream, but he was completely un

Malia felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest as she rushed toward the vent Peter had disappeared through. She lowered her head to look inside of it, gripping onto his blaster, and widened her eyes, feeling her breath hitch back into her throat. “P-peter?” She called out in a low whisper, seeing the leftover residue of the creature’s black ooze smeared over the vent walls. There was no sign of it. Or most importantly, no sight of Peter. Only it’s gross remnants and...sound? Malia cocked her head to one side. “Peter?” She leaned herself in to listen to the faint noise and stopped as Doctor Lingard’s high pitched voice filled the room.

His shouts echoed in her ears, his frantic words almost seeming alien to her as she took her attention off the vent and screamed back in response. “I’m sorry, but you were going to shoot him!” Malia furrowed her brows at Lingard, who waltzed over to her upon gathering himself off the floor. His glasses had completely broken off now, but he desperately tried to keep them on his face between words. The look he had plastered across his shaken features made her feel guilty for her actions. She was truly sorry she had pushed him yet he was the one asking for it. “Just shut up!” She hollered at the top of her lungs, taking him by surprise. 

“I-I knew this would happen,” He stuttered as his eyes glided toward the vent. “I told you.” He repeated in a defeated tone, causing her to panic. He saw something. As his beady eyes started to water, she heard it, the faint sound she had picked up minutes ago. It was no longer distant, instead close behind her. Malia hesitated to turn her own gaze toward the vent, afraid of what she might see — the image of that thing entering her mind. Bracing herself, she slowly turned her head in the direction of the vent and braved peeking inside the hatch. She had to know if it was Peter. And it was. Just not the one she recognized. “Oh my god,” She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. 

Inside the vent crawled the entity, wrapped around Peter’s entire form, like a second layer of skin. It covered every inch of his body, leaving only half of his face disclosed as the black muck patterned itself around his eyes. It was eating him! Malia pointed his blaster at it’s bubbly form then stopped herself from shooting as her frightened eyes locked on to Peter’s visible eye. It looked as if he were pleading with her not to shoot. Nodding through watery eyes of her own, she backed away from the vent and ran. She grabbed Lingard by the sleeves of his lab coat and dragged him out of the room. “We have to find Ellen. Now! We...”

Malia allowed her words to fade out as she and Doctor Lingard sprinted across the darkened facility. It wasn’t safe bringing up Peter around him so she opted in remaining quiet. She was sure he knew what she was about to say by the glare he threw at her amidst them entering the next room. Peter was still inside that monster and responsive, which is all that mattered to her. It meant they, most likely Ellen and her, would need to pry him out of it. She only hoped time was on their side. She didn’t know about that creature or how it truly operated. Only that it moved from host to host upon what Ellen said. “Oof.” Feeling herself collide with something, she looked up.

Her feet had tangled into some misplaced wires that had caused her to trip forward onto an empty stretcher table. “Lingard!” Malia glanced down the narrow hall to see the Doctor continue to run forward without turning. “You f*cking asshole!” She shouted as she struggled to untangle the wires from her feet and stand up. He had deliberately moved the objects in front of her. Going after him, she threw out a barrage of vulgar words, her fist soon colliding against the door he slammed across her face. “What are you doing? Let me in.” She tapped the glass centered amidst it’s metal frame, seeing Lingard smile in some sort of triumph and shake his head.

“Sorry. Can’t do that.” He adjusted his broken glasses. “You can die with him out there.” 

Malia was about to kick the door when a loud crashing sound erupted in the room she was in. She instantly pressed her back against the metal of the door and scanned her eyes around the environment, unable to make out most things. The Torren itself didn’t have much working lights besides the few that flickered on and off in the far end corners. “Please, Lingard.” Her voice came out in a speak as the eerie sounds she couldn’t pinpoint started to get louder. “Open the door.” She added, catching the silhouette of Peter’s figure slither down from a large shaft in the ceiling. He didn’t even appear human to her anymore. 

“Lingard!” Malia turned herself around and lifted her face up against the glass, feeling like she was going to throw up at the inhuman noises Peter screeched the minute he started to walk and twitch over to her. She could feel the tears begin to fall out of her eyes. She didn’t want to shoot him or worse. Pounding the palm of her hands against the door while she yelled at Doctor Lingard to open the door once more, she felt as if everything moved in slow motion. Before she knew it, she was swept off her feet amidst her screaming. Sharp claws clamped over one of her ankles and forcefully dragged her across the floor. 

“Peter! I know you're in there.” Through her shaky voice, Malia tried to talk as her hands reached for any strong surface to grab onto. He hadn’t moved from his original drop, but extended the size of his left arm to grab her, the black ooze holding onto her ankle in a vine grip. As no surface came in contact with her hands that could hold her in place, she frantically dug her nails into the substance trying to pry herself out of it. But, she couldn’t. Upon a few more failed attempts, she lifted his blaster toward the side of his face which had morphed into some sort of mouth with teeth and fired four direct shots into it, feeling the grip around her ankle lessen. 

“You useless thing, kill her!” 

Lingard’s agitated voice blared from the door speakers, causing Malia to turn her head in shock and let her mouth fall. Had he planned this? She looked down at her free ankle in surprise then back at Peter before widening her eyes. He no longer was there. Hearing the banging against the vents above her, she followed the noise directly to Lingard’s enclosed space. “No!” She tried to get up, but winced from the pain that shot from her ankle. Peter was going after Lingard and he had no clue as he pressed his smug face against the window pane looking for him. She couldn’t hear the grumblings he said, only the utter silence that followed after she started to crawl toward the door. The thing had gotten in.

* * *

Peter couldn't move as the darkness had completely engulfed his body. It was even in his mind, the one place where he should've found solace. He was a prisoner inside his own body, and his body hadn't stopped. Peter tried to push back at the void mentally, his muffled shouts as futile as that effort. And suddenly, he could see again. It was weird, like seeing through someone else's eyes, but after  suffocating darkness he'd take it. His body moved through what could only be a vent. He tried again to shout, and this time there was an answer. 'Shhhh.'

It was a hissing voice that came from inside of his own head. The darkness pulled away from his mouth just enough for him to talk. "What the hell are you?"

Peter felt himself fall from the vent and land on his feet. His head turned to look around the small room. 'For now, I'm you.'

He heard a noise behind him and his head turned on it's own. Lingard crouched by the door, completely overtaken by fear. He stared at Peter in sheer terror. "What are you doing?"

Peter's taloned hand reached out for Lingard, digging into his shoulder and lifting him to his feet. 'No need for other hosts now that I've got you.'

Peter tried to protest, but the black ooze covered his mouth again. He helplessly watched as his other hand raised to the screaming doctor's head and outstretched a finger. His eyes looked past Lingard at Malia who watched through the window on the door. He felt his face contort into a smile that wasn't his own just before the outstretched finger shot into the side of Lingard's head. After some probing the black tendril inside the doctor's head expanded, quickly building the pressure inside the man's skull until it could no longer contain it. Lingard's head burst like a melon and his lifeless body fell to the ground. 

Peter tried again to struggle, but had nothing to struggle with. His panic returned as he felt his body start to move. The thing put Peter's bloody hand on the window where a horrified Malia looked on from. It pulled away to reveal his face, but kept control over it through his brain. It'd snaked it's way inside and was controlling his every action. He could feel his memories being rifled through as though they were files, each one going past his eyes in rapid succession. "Mal." 

It hadn't been him that'd said it, instead it was the thing speaking in his voice. Malia leaned a bit closer, putting her hand on the glass. Every part of him that was left to his control screamed for her to run away. "P- Peter?"

The thing jerked his head up to look into her eyes and pulled his mouth into a sinister grin. "I'm going to kill you."

That was the last thing Peter heard or saw before being thrown so deep into the darkness that nothing could reach him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it was fitting to upload on the 2nd of October. Fits with the spooky month. There is a amage to a certain scifi classic if anyone picked up on it ;)


	17. Chapter 12 (pt. 3)

What followed was all a blur to Malia. Her mind was sent into a frantic haze as she turned without any clear direction and ran, ignoring the prickling pain that shot through her ankle. Lingard was dead and she was next. But, she had no time to think about the events that happened in front of her. Not with whatever Peter had become on the loose. Ellen was still her main priority. Through gritted teeth, Malia sprinted past the medbay, using the walls surface as a balancer to keep herself up and looked behind her shoulder every chance she could get. Nothing.

She knew it could pop itself any minute from behind or above her, thanks to the various vents that lingered around the ship. So, she needed to be careful. As careful as one could be with a limp. She whipped her head around at every little sound she heard and continued forward, until her eyes noticed black residue dripping from the hallways exit. She froze in her tracks, bit down on her bottom lip and tried to suppress the urge to scream, slowly backing herself away. She could hear it, the snarling at the end of the hall. It was waiting for her.

It truly felt like hours to Malia. She turned, retreated and searched for another way, each time being stumped by either a sealed door or it's breathing nearby. Her ankle made it even worse. Part of her wondered what would happen if she just hid somewhere. Though as she paused before going to the interlocking passage again, she could hear footsteps. Each mushy step, pacing forward. “Ooh, Mal!” Peter’s distorted voice soon followed, causing her to rush toward a ladder at the loud screech he let out afterward. 

She struggled to pull herself up the stairs with her damaged ankle, but managed to push through by gripping onto the rails. She sprawled onto the floor above and scrambled to her feet as Peter’s overtaken body shot from the opening, adjusted it’s posture and cocked his head to one side. Raising his blaster up with shaky hands, Malia slowly walked backwards, keeping her eyes trained on him. She didn’t know if talking would do any good. There was no color in Peter’s visible eye from what she could see, confirming to her that the thing had taken fully over. 

But…

“Take me!” Malia blurted after a minute of silence at him. She was expendable. She threw out her hand, still keeping the other gripped tightly around his blaster in case her plan didn’t fall through. She could get Peter out if it was willing to swap him for her. “Just, leave him and take me.” She repeated while it narrowed his eyes and abruptly lunged toward her, causing her to pull the trigger and run. She only made it halfway down the flickery corridor before feeling the slimy residue attached itself to her back. She gasped as it made her fumble into the wall, the blaster flying out of her hand from impact. 

She could barely catch her breath as her hands frantically dug at the residue with her nails. It was slowly enveloping her body in it’s ooze. As she distracted her eyes from it and looked up, her breath hitched, seeing the black muck split itself in half with Peter still attached. It wasn’t going to swap him out. It was going to add her in. Malia ripped her widened eyes away and dug her hands faster into the seeping material that was covering her legs and upper body. She could feel her heart ready to explode out of her chest. Struggling to untangle herself from it’s hold, she took in a shaky breath and stopped moving all together. 

She was going to let it take her in. 

And it did. Upon allowing her body to go limp, Malia leaned her body closer to Peter’s unconscious form, being jerked back into place by a vine grip. She was going to get him out, no matter what. She didn’t have time to process where Ellen was or the other possibilities without trying some on her own. She needed to be brave. The fear of leaving without Peter compelled her enough to push forward. She just prayed it worked as she forced her hands onto his chest and shoved them forward, feeling the muck drape over her arms.

A wave of panic soon started to wash over her as half of her body was being drowned amidst the goo at an exponential rate. She pushed forward her hands, the residue stopping her from doing so and grabbed Peter’s shirt. She felt a tingling sensation course through the tips of her fingers as every fiber of her inner self screamed while her mouth became enclosed by muck. Even if she died, she’d at least get him out. Closing her eyes, she focused the energy she felt within her hands and released it in a blue like force bursting through the entity, giving her the opening.

With one forceful push, Malia threw Peter forward, being thrown herself back as he landed across the floor. The creature now had a large hole in the middle of it’s diminishing form. It wobbled from side to side, the damaged ends slowly closing themselves back up again. “Dear god.” A familiar voice spoke, causing her to look up through her stained eyes. Ellen had emerged from the side of the hall, weapon in hand, with wide eyes. She darted her attention to and fro the creature then Peter before dragging him behind her quickly. “Move!” She further shouted. 

At the point of her gun, Ellen pulled the trigger, lighting up the hall in flames. The entity screeched as it was hit and Malia covered herself, seeing it morph into various shapes then cling itself to the ceiling as if it were retreating. It’s screeching only intensifies when another blast hits it. “Hurry! Let’s go,” Ellen rushed over to her side and helped her to her feet. They quickly stumbled into the room she had come out of and sealed the door behind them shut. “We have to get to Comms. Can you move?” She coaxed out between breaths, giving her a worry glance

Malia stared at her hand for a brief minute in a daze and nodded her head. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good. That thing isn’t going to stay at bay for long.” Ellen kneeled beside Peter, hooked her arms underneath his and propped him up. “We’re going to have to carry him. Quickly.” 

“Got it.” At the count of three, Malia lifted Peter’s legs and followed Ellen as she slammed the side of her hand against each door’s override button with haste. Once they reached the Communication Center, Malia was shocked to find other crew members huddle around the room. About twenty people glanced in her direction the minute she entered. She would stare at herself too with all the leftover slime she could feel still on her. “They're with me.” Ellen clarified as soon as she took in their stern expressions. “Jana. I’m going to need you to check him.” She lowered Peter onto a nearby cot then turned. “And you, with me.” 

Malia nodded her head, unsure if it was the time to tell Ellen about Lingard. Now that she was in a safe enough location, her nerves started to unwind, allowing her to think about everything that had happened. Peter, Lingard, the Creature and her ability — something she had only a few days ago discovered in the comfort of the Milano. Something Peter knew nothing of, but probably needed to when she was ready to tell him. Glancing over in his direction, she watched on as Jana looked him over, before following Ellen into another room. 

She just wanted all of this to be over already.

* * *

Peter's eyes shot open and he immediately sat bolt upright. He took short, deep breaths as his panicking mind tried to put together what was going on. A hand touched his shoulder and he recoiled, quickly turning to find a girl he didn't recognize looking down at him. "Who the hell are you?"

The girl bent down. "Jana. You can calm down, you're safe now."

The kind words did nothing to soothe Peter's heightened fear as he continued to put his surroundings into place. He remembered the whole abandoned ship scavenging run, that... thing. Peter put his head in his hands as he struggled to remember anything else. That entity or whatever had taken him, used him, made him kill that doctor. Then it'd made him go away. No, there was something else. Peter let out a frustrated groan as the memory continued to elude him. His heart dropped when he finally recollected wheat had happened. The last thing he remembered was that thing using him to go after Malia, to kill her. Peter grabbed Jana's arm. "Where's Mal?"

Jana's eyes widened as she tried to pull away. "Who?!"

Peter let go of the girl and stood on wobbly legs. "Mal, Malia! Where the hell is she?!"

Jana held up her hands. "I don't know who that is!"

If this girl didn't know Malia... maybe she hadn't made it here with him. Peter shook his head and pointed an accusing finger at Jana. "My partner! Where is she?!"

The girl looked at a man that had taken notice of the situation. "Get Ellen."

Peter furrowed his brow as he recognized the name, but his increasing panic over Malia kept him from focusing on anything else. If that thing had made him hurt her, or worse. "Somebody had better start answering my damn questions, or I'll be kicking every ass in here!" 

Jana tried to approach him. "Calm down or you'll pop your stitches."

Peter ran his hands through his hair. "I don't care!" His fear started to overtake his anger with each passing second without answers. "Just... just tell me what happened."

"Peter."

The sound of his name made him freeze. He thought the voice was familiar, but at this point he didn't even trust his own mind. Slowly he turned around, finding Malia watching him with concern written across her face. The sense of relief hit him so hard it'd left him at a loss for words. He silently stumbled forward, wrapping his arms around Malia once he reached her. 

“I-It’s Okay.” Malia slowly wrapped her arms around Peter, feeling her muscles relax underneath his embrace. “I’m Okay.” She moved her hands in a circular motion across his back to calm his nerves and took in a deep breath. The look he had given her of sheer panic left her baffled. She had never seen him this way before; his usual careless demeanor nowhere to be seen. She expected him to joke about his worn state, but he didn’t. He just silently held her in his arms while she rubbed his back in a soothing manner amidst the center of the room. 

The crew members around them stared on in slight confusion, their wrinkled expressions fading as some sort of realization seeped in. Their attention lingered for a brief minute then drifted away, back to their previous places. Jana plastered a smile over her lips, picked up her materials and walked away, leaving them to the little privacy the Communication Center gave. Malia watched as each individual crew member busied themselves and pulled away from Peter. “Hi,” She whispered up at him, trying to lift the heavy mood.

Peter chuckled, wincing at the pain as he did. "Hi,". With his panic subsiding, he tried to regain some composure. He wasn't going to do Malia any good in this state. "Where are we?"

Malia started to answer when Ellen arrived, cutting in. "You're in the last safe spot on the ship."

She tossed a white shirt at Peter who fumbled to catch it. "What happened?"

Ellen leaned on one of the cots. "Well, that thing took you for a ride," She paused, taking a deep breath. "made you kill Lingard."

Peter slowly finished putting on the shirt. "I'm sorry."

Ellen sighed. "I know it wasn't you, but thanks. Anyway, after that," She nodded at Malia. "your friend here got you out and we brought you here."

Peter furrowed his brow, turning his attention to Malia. "How?"

Malia glanced at Ellen and shrugged. "Just lucky I guess."

Ellen stepped forward. "Not to cut you off, but we need to stay focused. The comms are unsalvageable, nobody is coming."

Peter glanced around at the room full of people. "So, you'll be wanting that ride after all?"

Ellen sighed. "Not much choice. But, before we move all these people to your ship, we need to clear out our pest. Luckily, Malia and I have a plan that just may do that."

Peter looked at Malia. "Really?"

“Yeah?” Malia averted looking at Peter, feeling herself become unsure of the plan Ellen and her had organized while he was asleep. “It’s nothing major.” She lied, knowing deep inside he would be against the whole thing. She was going to be the one luring the entity into an emergency shuttle for a chance to get rid of it. Since there weren’t many willing participants around, the choice was practically left up to her. “I’m—,” Racking the inside of her brain for words, she paused as Ellen left them to talk after being called over by one of her crewmates.

‘Great!’ Malia breathed, not wanting to be the one to tell Peter. She figured Ellen was more equipped than her in the situation. She didn’t want to argue over her decision, rather see it through and be done with it. Part of her now wished Peter had remained unconscious until then. She figured it was best she’d be the one to rip off the bandaid, being his partner or whatever she was. “Listen,” She uttered, raising her hand to stop him from speaking. “I volunteered to be bait and I don’t want to argue with you over it.” She expressed in a deep sigh. She looked into his eyes before continuing. “You're hurt Peter, so please don’t say you're going to go.”

Peter stared at Malia, slowly shaking his head. There was no way he was going to let her go out there, even if it meant dragging himself out that door. Especially not after that last close call. "No way! You're not going out there."

Malia sighed deeply. "Peter, there's nobody else. Ellen will guide me there."

Peter pointed to himself. "There's me! I'm not that hurt."

Malia shook her head. "You're barely standing and are being held together by string, you're 'that' hurt." 

Peter ran his hands through his hair. "I can't let you do this."

Malia folded her arms across her chest. "It's not your decision, it's mine. I want you to trust me to make it."

For all his admiration of her strength and calling them partners, a part of Peter still felt responsible for Malia's safety. That image of her being so scared and lost like he'd been in his first steps into the stars had never really left him. But, looking at her now, at what she was planning to do, Peter realized just how little she resembled that image anymore. Even with that revelation hitting him, he couldn't agree to her going to what was practically a death sentence. "Mal, we'll find another way!"

She threw a hand up. "There's no other way!"

Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You can't do this!"

Malia held her arms open. "Why not!"

Peter pointed at her. "Because I can't lose anyone else, especially not you!" 

"What?" Malia felt her breath hitch itself back inside her throat, being taken aback. 'He what?' She tried to process his sudden words in the awkward silence that followed as the low chatter of the crew members around faded in and out of her ears. ‘He didn’t want to lose her?’ She lifted the corners of her chapped lips, repeating his words over in her head and smiled up at him — never expecting such a confession from the infamous Star-Lord. She almost wanted him to repeat it again. He had finally told her something from the heart. A partial something she desperately wanted to hear. 

Raising her hand up to the side of his face, Malia rested her palm against his cheek, the butterflies in her stomach dancing wildly. “You’re not going to lose me,” She let out in an amused laugh, determined to keep herself strong for him. Deep down she understood his concern, even her own which she tried to not think much about. But, regardless of lingering fears, the plan needed to be done for their sake and the sake of those still alive on the ship. Maybe they were strangely brought to this place to save them, to make a difference another pair never did. 

“I’m going to do this, and you're going to help Ellen.” Malia took a moment to stare at Peter, her stern eyes never leaving his tired ones, before lifting her hand away from his face. “I’ll be fine. I promise.” She gave him another genuine smile and straightened her posture as Ellen herself approached them with a similar grin placed across her own face. “Ready?” She asked, looking on between the pair, until Malia answered, “Yeah. Ready as I’ll ever be.” Handing her the outstretched walkie she held, Ellen gave Peter an understanding glance. “Don’t worry. She’s stronger than she looks.”

Peter watched Malia as she made her way towards the door. He knew what she'd said had been for his benefit and that she may not even believe it herself. Deep down they both knew that she could die out there, but they also both knew it needed to be done. Any fear she had she'd stuffed down and covered with a brave face, and if she could do that so would he. Peter nodded in agreement with Ellen's statement. "I know she is, that's why she's my partner."

Malia looked over at them as a larger man started to pull the door open just enough to let her out. Peter gave her a thumbs up, getting the same in return. The door opened a bit and Malia slipped out through the small gap, the door immediately being closed behind her. Ellen checked her radio. "Can you hear me?"

The radio crackled, the abrasive noise echoing off the metal walls. "I can hear you."

Ellen nodded, turning her attention towards Peter. "That control panel gives us control over the doors and vents of the station. Get over there and press exactly what I say when I say it."

Peter looked over the crowded group of buttons and sighed. "Okay."

Ellen got back on the radio as she looked over Peter's shoulder. "Go straight down the hall until you reach two doors. You're gonna wanna go through the one on the left. And be quiet, we don't want to draw that thing's attention yet. If it gets after you we'll try and slow it down from here."

Peter felt helpless here, his restlessness growing by the second. He should've gone with her. Even as messed up as he was he was sure he could've helped... maybe. "Did she take a weapon?"

Ellen shook her head, much to Peter's dismay. "She can handle herself."

Peter furrowed his brow. Nobody could 'handle' themselves against that thing, regardless of their scrappiness. "Are you serious? She can't..."

Ellen held up a hand. "Don't worry. She's got this."

* * *

Malia breathed in and out as she made her way toward the marked location with caution, keeping herself close to the walls and doors that were illuminated by light. All she needed to do was reach the center of the landing dock and lure the creature in. From there she was sure things would get a whole lot more complicated. Buying enough time for the crew to safely board the Milano was one piece of Ellen’s plan that worried her. If she made a mistake and it caught on, their careful plotting was for nothing. She let out a sigh at the thought of everything going wrong and focused on her task ahead.

“I can see the deck hall,” Radioing Ellen in on her status, Malia caught a glimpse of the shuttle facility just a few feet away from her location, feeling a wave of nerves wash over her. It was time to initiate their lure and run tactic with whatever gusto she could muster up. Taking her fingers off the walkie’s talk button, she waited for Ellen’s response as the crackle, pop sound from the otherside made her more anxious. She listened in to the low chatter of the members that flowed in until Ellen’s voice patched through with Peter in the mix. She heard her shush him before speaking. 

“You know what to do next,” Her firm tone faded in amidst the crackling. “We will be waiting.” 

“Yeah.” Malia inhaled in another deep breath to calm her nerves and lowered the walkie from her mouth as Peter’s worried voice came through. “What?” She furrowed her brows as she was unable to decipher his chopped up sentence through the heavy static that drowned out his words. She shook the walkie in hopes of clearing the hissing noise but it only intensified. “Hello?” She tapped the side of the communication device with her palm several times then cursed underneath her breath, knowing their signal had either reached its limit or had been cut.

Assuming it was the latter, Malia lifted her attention toward the shuttle division and threw the walkie against a surface loud enough to make noise. She figured delaying the inevitable would make things much worse. She already knew the risks. The unfortunate marks to look out for. Disconnection, isolation and possible death. The three dangerous signs she pleaded with Ellen not to tell Peter about for his sake. He didn’t need to hear it, and she knew that he didn’t, in order for her to focus. It was funny really. She all of a sudden felt strangely calm, knowing he wouldn’t be able to look in. 

If something were to happen to her, she would rather he not hear it. Having a familiar sound shake her from her thoughts, Malia made her way across the hall, looking over her shoulder. As if on cue, the black blob she waited for slithered itself out of the ceiling vent. It rushed in her direction, using the wall's surface to leap forward. She turned her attention over at the sight and slammed an emergency alarm with her hand, crawling underneath the facility’s broken door, hearing it go off as she did. She hoped that was a big enough sign to Ellen. She had reached their intended destination.

* * *

Ellen looked up as the abrupt sound of the emergency alarms reached her ears. Her crew members looked around behind her in surprise before she continued to clarify the situation. “Reyes has given us the time. Let's not waste it!” She quickened her step to reach the entryway and with the help of another member, pulled open the sealed door. “Ready yourself with whatever air supplies. We’re heading out.” Ellen took a moment to turn to Peter as she gave her order and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you ready to lead us?” She asked, giving him a small smile. “Battery needs changing.” She added.

Peter nodded, pushing his worry down as best he could. "Sure, but," He leaned a bit forward, lowering his voice. "I don't know where the hell I'm going."

Ellen shook her head before holding Peter's blasters out to him. "Just follow me and try not to look too clueless."

Peter took his weapons, checking them both before giving a chuckle. "That's what I usually do anyway."

Ellen looked back at one of her crew. "Grab one of the batteries." She turned her attention to the others. "Let's go."

Ellen slipped through the door first, pistol raised and ready. Peter followed, peering around the dark corridor as the rest of the crew followed. He stayed at Ellen's side, his eyes constantly falling on the radio clipped to her belt. "Why isn't she calling?" 

Ellen glanced at him. "Probably out of range. This ship plays hell on the radios."

Peter's mouth dropped open. "You mean she's out there without so much as a working radio?"

Ellen nodded, her eyes darting around as they made their way through the steel labyrinth. "She knew it was bound to happen, it was part of the plan."

Peter blinked, realizing how little of the plan he actually knew. "Why didn't she tell me?"

Ellen held up a hand, signaling for everyone to stop as she peered around a corner. "She didn't want to worry you."

Peter furrowed his brow as he glanced back at the crew. "Well, she failed." He watched Ellen as she stepped around the corner. "Is there more I don't know?"

Ellen glanced back, giving him a small smile. "I'm sure there's plenty you don't know."

Peter stood as the crew shuffled past him. He'd known how dangerous this plan was from the beginning, but now that it was actually in motion it was really settling in just how hopeless Malia's part seemed. He should've pushed harder to have gone, or at least gone with her. Since when did he go along with other people's plans? The radio silence had done it. The thought of Malia being attacked and him not even being able to hear her ask for help, of her last words being for his aid and he not even hearing it. He shook his head. "I screwed up."

Ellen looked back from the front of the group. "What?"

Peter made his way past the crew, his mind scrambling. "Where's Mal at now?"

Ellen looked him over. "Peter, the plan w..."

Peter held up a blaster. "F*ck the plan. Where is she?"

Ellen shook her head. "You can't help her in your condition, not against that thing. What good will you do her getting killed?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Just tell me." 

He listened as Ellen reluctantly rattled off some directions, turning to leave as soon as she finished. "What if you're not back when we get your ship working?"

Peter glanced over his shoulder. _"Go without me."_

* * *

“Damn it!” Malia slammed her trembling hands against the shuttle’s keypad and tried to input the code Ellen had given her again, feeling her heart start to pound rapidly against her chest. She wished things had gone as planned, but they hadn’t. The creature was much faster than she expected, catching her and the opening emergency pod door off guard as it’s claw left a deep imprint on the padlock. Between ducking away from it entirely, time was being consumed by their dance until she threw a plastic drape she found over it and took the opportunity to mess with the malfunctioning keypad.

“Two, Two-Three, Six.” She mumbled underneath her breath, punching each number into the screen to no avail, receiving an error message each time. Malia whipped her head around at the sound of the drape being ripped apart and scanned her eyes around the room for any objects that could light a flame. There wasn’t another shuttle pod nearby, the rest scattered in the room being empty from previous use. So, she needed a plan b. Rushing over to a Medical Kit hanging off the wall, she tore it’s small door open. Upon seeing a couple of flares, she turned back around with one in hand. 

Her brown eyes connected with the black organism’s shapeless form, outstretching itself from the slits of the torn cloth. It wobbled in place as if it were going to take some sort of form, before it let out a loud snarl in her direction. Malia uncapped the flare she held and pointed it straight outward, causing the thing to jump backwards. It wasn’t exactly fire, but it would do the heat emitted from the tip similar enough to keep the creature at bay until she figured out a way to crack open the shuttle door. She was sure by now Ellen and Peter had made it to Milano; her part just needing to be done. 

Keeping her hand outstretched in the entity’s direction, Malia slid herself closer to the shuttle door and turned to work on the keypad once more. She turned her head every second as she did, seeing the flare almost out of it’s light. She threw it toward the creature in hopes it would back itself further into the corner of the room and held her breath as it only stared at the item until the end fizzled out. She looked between the flare and the creature for a silent moment before she slammed her hand with force against the padlock.

As the door slowly started to open, Malia let out a scream as the entity took hold of her and threw her across the room. She felt her back collide against glass and her body hit the ground among the shattered mess around her. Uncapping the second flare, she winced, feeling the pain from the impact jolt through her. All she needed was to lure it inside. Her eyes glided over to the open shuttle then at the creature, her misplaced attention earlier leaving her cautious to turn her attention away. Throwing the lit flare in front of the faulty entrance, she pushed herself up and limped toward the shuttle. 

The second she did, everything seemed to slow down as the entity went completely after her without pause. Malia struggled against it, purposely falling inside the opened shuttle’s space. She closed her eyes amidst the thudding of her heart and surging nerves that pumped to through her veins and focused her hands against the ooze seeping over it. She admitted it, she knew nothing of the energy that blasted the creature earlier, but she’d attempt it again. It was the only thing she could think of.

Malia searched inside herself for whatever drive it was she needed then gasped as the creature swiftly lifted up three outstretched claws. In a wave of panic, the energy she searched for revealed itself in the form of the familiar glow again. She aimed her hands up in time to shoot through the ooze and roll away from it’s reach. She quickly crawled out of the shuttle space, pushed the initiate button on the pad and fell back to catch her uneven breaths. As the countdown to the pod started to make itself heard, she noticed the unexpected whoosh of air hit her, making her turn around.

The blast she had shot had hit a nearby pipe. It gushed a large supply of air she was certain was hazardous by the green taint it held. Malia scrambled up to her feet and soon widened her eyes amidst the flames that flickered off the lit flare she had forgotten about. Before she could take another step toward it, she was once more sent flying as the gas licked the crackling flare, igniting the room in fire. She moaned in pain, landing on top of glass again and sluggishly covered her face as the flames began to extend themselves. How was she going to get out of this? She had no more energy left in her. 

Her body ached, ankle throbbed and hands felt numb, her attempt to crawl failing miserably as her knees buckled underneath her. Maybe this was how she went out. In a blaze of half glory. She winced over the abrupt pop of another pipe bursting and slid her body across the floor, the overbearing heat starting to kick in. Hearing the howl of the creature echoe amidst the automatic voice that blared, repeating “emergency alerts,” her eyes slowly began to droop. She saw a figure in the distance not shortly after, standing across the entrance. Peter? As she opened and closed her eyes, a warm, tingling sensation enveloped her.

* * *

Peter had heard the explosion, his mind conjuring the worst as he'd rushed through the door to the shuttle bay. Even with that preparation he was unprepared for the scene he found. The room had been engulfed in flames as more continued to jet out from a pipe in the wall. The shrieking of the entity as it writhed inside the flaming cabin of the nearest shuttle could be heard even from inside the closed space. Malia lay not far from him, a translucent veil of blue shielding her from the flames. Peter stared for a couple of seconds, completely bewildered until the veil started to fade away. 

He rushed forward, grabbing Malia's arm and pulling her away from the blaze as the forcefield completely dissipated. The pain and exhaustion caught up with him and he took a seat against the wall, making sure Malia rested comfortably against him. He couldn't help but smile as the thing screeched all while the shuttle was automatically locked into position in front of a hole perfectly made for it. The jets on the back fired up and the flaming vehicle and its occupant was sent out into the darkness of space. "Happy trails, jackass."

Peter turned his attention to Malia, checking her for any evident injury. Aside from some fairly nasty cuts, she seemed fine, but he couldn't really know just looking at her. He brushed her hair out of her face and chuckled. "Idiot." Reaching behind his ear, he activated his helm, the mask encasing his head. He tapped at the side, activating the radio and patching it through to the Milano. "Hey, you guys hear me?"

After a few seconds of silence Ellen's voice sounded in his ear. "Crystal clear."

Peter shook his head. "Yeah, because my radios actually work."

Ellen gave a small laugh. "How's things on your end?"

Peter looked at the raging fire in front of him. "Peachy. Mal took care of your pest problem, so if you want to make a call from the Milano and stay,"

The radio crackled, making Peter tap his helm to clear it up. "Hell no. Somebody else can get the research later, but I don't care to step foot aboard the Torrens again."

Peter chuckled. "I don't blame you. We'll be there in a few minutes." He stood up slowly before scooping Malia up in his arms. Pain shot through him with each step. "Make that a few more minutes."

Once aboard the Milano one of the crew members took Malia as another helped Peter to the makeshift med bay he had. Malia was laid carefully on the long, metal table that acted as a cot while he sat on a chair at her side. Jana checked Malia first, finding nothing seriously wrong with her. He had to be restitched after the effort of getting Malia back to the ship. After she had finished patching him up she left the two alone.

It gave Peter some time alone with his own thoughts. He hated that shit. At the forefront of his mind was whatever the hell had been going on with that forcefield or whatever around Malia. As far as he knew her suit didn't have that as an accessory. But that couldn't have come from her. She was just... Malia, the girl from earth. Right? She would've told him about that. At least he thought she would. 

Peter was shaken from his thoughts as Malia began to stir. "W-where am..."

Peter straightened up and chuckled. "Hey, just when I was getting used to the quiet."

Malia looked at him, furrowing her brow. "Did the plan work?"

Peter nodded. "We're all safely aboard the Milano and that living raw sewage is on its way to who the hell cares."

A smile crossed Malia's lips. "Good." She stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before looking back at Peter. "You came for me. Why didn't you stick to the plan?"

Peter shrugged. "Never been one to stick to someone else's plan. Besides," He patted her on the shoulder and smiled. "I couldn't leave my partner behind."

Malia put her hand on his that rested on her shoulder. "Thank you."

Peter nodded. "Of course. Now, I have to fly us out of here and I'm sure you've got a bunch of folks just waiting to thank you for your little near death back there." He stood up and started to leave, their hands not separating until neither could reach anymore. Peter paused at the door before turning back around. "Mal?"

Malia raised her brow. "Yeah?"

_"What the f*ck was up with that blue bubble?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And NOW the real adventure begins? Haha, I think I said that before. But, no. Onto the next adventure with these two. Hope you guys are enjoying it so far.


	18. Chapter 13

It was now or never. As Malia hovered over Peter with a bottle of shaving cream in her hand, she tried her best to stifle her laughter and focus on her serious mission. Her covert, sleeper cell operation that she had planned for weeks had finally fallen through; the memories of their awful battery escapade fading into obscurity. Somewhere during the days that followed, things had fallen back to normal, their overly complicated relationship being at it’s usual center. But, she’d rather have those awkward moments over anymore unplanned runs and it was probably due to the shenanigans that surfaced in between. 

There weren’t many fun things to do aboard on the Milano. Besides her forced movie marathons with Peter or failed binging episodics that ended in him being asleep, their random, spontaneous acts of mischief seemed to become the solution to their rather slow days. Which led to her current, calculated operation dubbed: Star-Dumb, as Peter’s facial hair had entered a problematic phase. While she would never admit it to his face, she found his previous hipster-esque facial hair attractive on him, the feeling all disappearing when he decided to trim it into some sort of Tom Selleck Magnum P.I mustache.

She hated it, and he loved it, purposely going out of his way to irk her with it. So much so, she ignored him for a whole week after the ridiculous cut. She couldn’t even look at him for too long without wanting to rip the hairs off his face. She'd had just about enough of his idiotic amusement now and the repulsive stache ‘game,’ he thought he had. It needed to go and she was going to make it happen. Thanks to one of her out of the blue Harry Potter Marathons, Peter had on cue fallen asleep around the fifth film of the franchise, leaving her to gather the much needed materials to end his mustache once and for all.

“Die, you ugly caterpillar.” Malia lifted the shaving cream can over Peter’s face and sprayed the white foam across his upper lip. She brushed the ends of his whiskers with her fingers, making sure she covered his entire mustache and turned on his battery powered razor. She was going to remember this moment. Cautiously trimming the side that was nearest to her in a fit of giggles, she turned Peter’s head and shaved off the entire half, almost bursting into laughter. As he stirred and wiped his hand alongside his face, smearing his hands in foam, Malia lowered herself beside the worn couch and crawled away.

The second Peter’s scream reached her ears, she scrambled up to her feet and bolted toward the kitchen area, hearing him crash into some random objects in his attempt to catch her. “Don’t you dare come near me!” She held up the shaving cream can at him as if it were a pistol and moved around the metal table as he followed her with the most serious expression she’d ever seen him give her. “Or I’ll shoot.” She threatened, squirting out a warning shot that cascaded to the ground. She was missing just the other half now and if he was going to put up a fight over it, by god she was willing to give it to him. 

“Your porn-stache is gonna—,” Letting out a playful shriek, Malia ducked away from Peter as he leaped toward her and grabbed her by the arm. She squirmed herself out of his grip, laughing against him and unloaded half the can of shaving cream unexpectedly on his face before running off. “Awh. You mad?” She cooed. “Star-baby gonna cry?” She giggled, stopping in the middle of the narrow hall to mock him. She placed a triumphant smile over her lips then beckoned Peter, who wiped the foam away from his face to: ‘bring it on.’ She did warn him. When he least expected it she would attack him. Lo and behold, she attacked.

Peter blocked Malia as best he could given the foam in his eyes and his only conscience a few seconds. He grabbed her wrist, keeping the razor away from his face while Malia continued to douse him with shaving cream. "Is this why you made me watch those boring movies?!"

Malia dropped the can of shaving cream, using the newly freed hand to aid her effort of getting the razor to his stache. "They're not boring, you just don't have good taste in movies!"

Peter let out a sharp huff. "I do too! Those kids are just so... British, it makes me tired."

Malia pushed against him, backing him against the wall. "Oh, but that music of yours doesn't?"

Peter furrowed his brow. "Hey! Off limits!"

Malia rolled her eyes. "Fine, then so is Potter."

Peter started to say something when his foot slipped on a glob of shaving cream. He fell to the floor, taking Malia with him as they both struggled for control of the razor. She braced her knees against the floor on either side of his waist, giving her enough leverage to push down even harder, the razor inching closer towards Peter's last shred of facial hair. "Now I'm gonna look baby faced and weird!"

Malia laughed. "Better than looking like you're on the creepy people watchlist." She glanced off to the side for a moment. "Are you on a watchlist like that?"

Peter shook his head. "No... I think?" He pulled on the razor as hard as he could, pulling both his and Malia's arms above his head. Malia yelped as she fell forward, her face stopping inches away from his. Peter felt his heart rate quicken at the closeness, unable to keep from chuckling at Malia's bewildered eyes. "Hi."

Malia froze for what seemed like forever, stuck in her own surprised state. In her head her plan had gone much more differently. By now, she should have been standing victorious over a weeping and clean shaven Peter, not positioned on top of him, struggling to get the job done. She should have just listened to Tochi when she'd had the chance and knocked him out instead. It would have saved her the trouble of making a mess. One in which she would force Peter to clean up, right after she disposed of that pesky mustache of his. She would see it no more!

Gathering herself from her daze, Malia hovered her face closer to his, feeling her heart start to race and smiled down at him, a light bulb going off in her head. “Do you want to know why I stayed here with you?” Through a shaky breath she asked as their eyes met. She hadn’t forgotten about his question. In truth she hadn’t forgotten about a lot of things. Like the tape he had giving her still tucked away in the safety of her underwear drawer. “I think I may have fallen…,” She continued to say after a small pause, drawing out each word slowly.

She let her lips hang over his, the overwhelming closeness setting her face ablaze in warmth and stomach a flutter. Malia knew it was a cheap trick, but she had no other choice. Knowing Peter, he’d walk around the Milano with the one sided stache until she took initiative to murder him for it. Feeling the grip of his hands soften around her wrists, she quickly jerked one hand free and held his face in place, the sound of the razor’s humming registering in. “Die!” She scraped off the remaining side he had left and stood up in triumph. 

“No need to fear Galaxy, I’ve won!” Malia placed her hands above her hips as she struck a dramatic pose above Peter’s form. It definitely hadn’t gone as she had planned. But, she got the job done. Lowering her brown eyes to look down at her prey, she leaped backwards the minute tried to grab her ankles. Before she knew it, both of them were running around the Milano dousing each other in shaving cream, their laughter echoing through the halls. As they rounded the ladder to the cockpit, Malia attempted to make her escape up it.

She let out a playful shout upon being stopped and flung backwards into his embrace. “Let go of me! Or I’ll bite you, I swear—,” Her words, laced in amusement, quickly faded into a fit of giggles that followed upon him throwing her over his shoulder. She kicked her legs around and punched his back amidst her protest then sunk her teeth into Peter’s back as she said she would do, the unexpected attack resulting in both of them falling to the floor. With the can of shaving cream at her disposal now, Malia jumped on top of him and sprayed him wildly as payback.

Peter slapped the can out of her hand, sending it clanking across the floor. "Haven't you done enough?"

Malia laughed as she wiped a glob of shaving cream across his cheek. "I had to, for the sake of all that is good and holy."

Peter lay back on the floor, unable to keep from laughing himself. He ran his hand across his roughly shaven upper lip and shook his head. "You will be missed, Mustachio." He pointed at Malia who lay beside him on her side, propping her head up with her hand. "And you better watch your eyebrows close."

Malia threw up her brow. "You wouldn't dare."

Peter gave a sly grin. "Wouldn't I? You fight dirty, I fight dirtier."

Malia shook her head. "Oh, I'm sure you do."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Peter sat up, startled at the sudden voice behind them. He hopped to his feet and whipped around to find the holographic image of a woman displayed on the table. His heart sank as he recognized her. "Kalara Sarek. What do you want?"

The woman gave a sweet smile as she looked Peter over. "Peter, Peter, Peter. What makes you think I want anything from you?"

Peter put his hands on his hips and let his eyes wander around the room. "Well, I don't know, probably because you don't ever not want something."

Kalara shook her head and sighed. "Is it so odd for me to want to reconnect with an old friend," She paused for a moment before continuing. "and lover?"

Malia stood up, wiping shaving cream off of herself. She muttered 'should've guessed' just loud enough for Peter to hear. Peter held up a hand. "Listen, Kalara, even if that's all you wanted to do, I'm kind of busy with stuff right now."

Kalara's gaze hadn't left Malia since she'd stood up. "With her... and cream?"

Peter looked down at himself still covered in shaving cream, then glanced at Malia to find her in much the same state. "Just get to the point or I'm ending the transmission."

Kalara returned her eyes to Peter, softening her features as she did. "Since I last saw you I've acquired quite a few responsibilities, one of which is being hostess of the gathering of all the," She gave Malia a side glance before continuing. "beings of significance in my world. It would bring me great pleasure to have you at my side at this event."

Peter folded his arms across his chest. "I heard you got married."

Kalara stiffened. "My 'husband' has a habit of disappearing when the event is nearing, usually with the company of other women. It would be a great embarrassment for me to attend alone."

Peter shrugged. "You're the princess, just get somebody to go with you."

Kalara shook her head, her sweet demeanor beginning to fade with her patience. "I can't get just anybody to go with me, it has to be somebody not of Contraxia."

Peter shook his head as he walked over to the hologram control panel. "Thanks, but no thanks, princess. Me and my partner are already pretty late to where we're supposed to be and this is a detour we can't afford."

Kalara huffed as Peter reached for the disconnect button before a wicked grin crossed her face. "You weren't hard to find, you know? Not with my resources. Now, suppose I shared those resources with the Novas."

Peter froze, casting a glare at Kalara's smiling face. He knew she'd do it, she didn't bluff. But, he'd try to talk his way out of it first. "You don't do things for nothing. What would you get out of doing that? It's not like you need the reward money."

Kalara shrugged. "The Novas would make a fine ally, and I imagine helping them apprehend one of their most wanted would go a long way in securing that alliance. I could also make it worse for you, Peter. Remember, what we did is illegal on my planet." She put a hand on her forehead, taking up an overly dramatic tone. "'He took advantage of me, father. I was too afraid to speak up, but justice has been done a disservice for too long.'"

Peter looked up at the ceiling and groaned. "Fine! I'll go to your damn party."

Kalara clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! I'll await your arrival." She stole another disdainful glance at Malia. "Be sure to pack light." With that the hologram blinked off.

“Well,” Malia let the word linger in a sort of hum as her impression of, ‘Kalara,’ settled itself in. “She was interesting.” She glanced up at Peter for a brief moment, seeing him stare in her direction and tried to seem unbothered by his intrusive, “friend.” She'd made a promise to herself not to let him see her discomfort over his messy list of lovers. It was hard, resisting the urge to slap him sometimes, accepting the fact that maybe she was reading too much into their relationship. Her feelings. Maybe…? She lowered her brown eyes onto her soaked pajama top then forced out a dry laugh. 

“Harry looks good with a mustache,” Drawing her attention from her own thoughts, Malia pointed at the young wizard’s face across her shirt, smeared with shaving cream and turned on her heel to walk down the hall. “We might as well not make things worse for us,” She dug around one of the vacant rooms for a rag, wanting to shake off her emotions and harshly started to scrub the trail of shaving cream from the ship’s floor. “I don’t want the Novas back…,” She paused at the thought of them, the vivid image of Wayne rearing into her head. “So—get your space gigolo on.”

God. Did she just say that? Malia plopped herself near another puddle of foam, shaking her head over her dumb words and slapped her hand over her forehead. She really didn’t want to see him get his anything on with anybody, the last incident still fresh in her mind. But, to avoid impending doom, in which she was sure, ‘Kalara,’ would unleash upon them, or her by the way she glared at her during the transmitted call — they would have to pretend to go along with her request. “Besides, a change of scenery wouldn’t be so bad too. Stretch our legs, you know?”

Peter ran his hands through his hair, stopping to let them rest on the back of his head. "Hardly worth it, believe me." He watched her for a few seconds as she wiped up the foam mess. She was upset. Even if she wasn't really showing it, he could tell. She hadn't even tried to get him to clean up the stuff before going at it herself. Cleaning seemed to be how she coped with being upset, or at least distracted herself from it. Hence the reason the Milano was damn near spotless. He was actually kind of proud of himself for picking up on it. "Listen, Mal."

She looked up from her task, waiting for his follow up. He didn't know why, but he felt like he owed her some kind of explanation for Kalara. Problem was, he didn't have one. He rarely did for any of his old flames. A sigh escaped him as he gave up on that line of conversation. "I know that this situation is, and I'm understating here, a complete nightmare, but it's really not worth getting upset about." She shook her head and started to say something before Peter cut her off. "Don't try. You've been scrubbing that same spot for a good thirty seconds since the foam was cleaned, that's like, at least a seven on the upset scale. But, it really isn't that big a deal... for you, anyway. It's going to be tormenting for me. See, maybe you'll even get some entertainment from my misery."

Peter smiled as best he could considering the impending events. "So, before I go 'get my space gigolo on', are you good?"

Malia let out a deep breath, placing a smile on her lips moments afterward. She was a little surprised. Since when did he pay attention to her moods? She shook her head again and wobbled to her feet. She wasn’t angry. Or at least that’s not how she would put it. She was concerned? No. She was...Her eyes locked with his as she tried to rack her brain for a possible response and self-explanation. “I’m fine.” She gripped onto the wet rag. “You don’t have to ask me that everytime too.” Turning around toward the direction of the kitchen, she started to rummage through the refrigerator for ingredients to cook. 

She wanted to stray away from the topic at hand. Without telling him what she really wanted to say, what she felt, she figured it was for the best. “Chicken or beef?” Malia held up some taco wraps she had made sure to buy during Christmas and glanced over her shoulder to catch Peter saunter into the open space. She studied his face, seeing the wheels in his head start to turn, almost making her laugh. She was sure he was surprised by the sudden change in conversation. From feelings to food choice. “Uh, Beef?” Hearing him respond, she took out his said meat of choice and the other items she needed. 

“Taco Fiesta!” Malia shook the wraps in her hand, doing a little dance as she moved along the counter to plop her ingredients down. Grocery shopping on earth was the smartest thing she ever decided to do. Even with Tochi’s help, the market places in space confused her. It definitely didn’t help that Peter would leave her to fend for herself while he did whatever it was he did while she shopped, coming back to find her basket still empty. She knew eventually she would have to figure it all out, but for now she would enjoy her humanly products while they lasted. “Now, here. Grate this cheese and then dice up these...”

She allowed her words to fall off while she placed two tomatoes on the side for Peter. “You're going to help me, since I cleaned up your mess.” She turned to look at him as she tied an apron around herself and wrapped her hair up in a safety-food bun. “You should be the one cooking for me, actually.” Malia added with huff. “With all the stuff you make me go through.” She watched him place a hand across his chest as if he were hurt by her words and mouth out, ‘me?’ in between lighthearted face expressions that caused her to involuntarily lift the corners of her mouth into smile. God, she hated this man.

Peter chuckled to himself before looking at the two tasks Malia had assigned to him. He didn't know his way around a kitchen for anything, never needed to. He'd always tended to get instant food or eat whatever happened to be around. Grabbing the block of cheese and the metal slab with razor holes he assumed was a grater, he put the tool against the food and pushed it along it. Instead of coming out in a fine, shredded form like it did when Malia did it, a good quarter of the block broke off and fell past the counter and to the floor. Peter glanced at Malia, relieved to find she hadn't noticed the trouble he was having before kicking the piece of cheese underneath the counter. 

After a couple more tries he got it, though there were broken chunks of cheese mixed in with the shredded. Peter pushed that task aside and grabbed the tomato and knife. He pushed the blade down into the tomato, smashing a decent portion into a red mush. "God, Peter, you're helpless."

Peter looked over to find Malia shaking her head at him. "I don't even think I knew I had a kitchen until you started using it."

Malia reached over and grabbed his hand that held the knife. "Here." She moved his hand and the blade over the tomato, slicing in a smooth, sawing motion until a piece fell free. "Then you just cut that into cubes."

Peter sighed as she let go of his hand and went at the tomato like she had shown him. After a few minutes he had a relatively nicely diced tomato, except for maybe the last piece or two when he'd gotten tired of doing it and may or may not have used the knife like a sword to hacks the pieces into cubes. Malia had let him off the hook while she finished what she was doing, which gave him a chance to set their course to Contraxia. He was dreading his reunion with Kalara, but figured he'd take a page out of Malia's book and push that aside for now. She was dodging the subject for whatever reason, he could tell as he'd done the same to her numerous times. But, it didn't seem worth pushing. "Hey, Star-Dumb. Food's done."

Malia plopped herself onto the empty pilot seat next to Peter and handed him his plate of tacos. She took in the moving space particles that whirled past the ship’s windshield in silence, before focusing on her plate for a brief second. “So…,” She turned her head toward Peter as he bit down into one of his tacos and flicked his attention upward. “What can I be expecting from, C-o-n-t-r-a-x-i-a, was it?” She wrinkled her nose a bit, unsure of her pronunciation of the planet’s name and picked at the folds of her tacos tortilla skin. “Like, is it nice there? Are the people weird?”

_‘Like their raunchy Princess,’_ She wanted to add, but kept to herself. It was hard being the bigger person. “The weather?” Malia chimed in instead, taking a bite of her mexican inspired dish. She furrowed her brows when she noticed Peter had devoured his four tacos, barely on her first one as she tried to start up some sort of conversation. “Is that a weird alien thing? You know, part of your un-human half.” She wondered out loud in between a small laugh. She never had asked him about his family lineage. He knew about hers, thanks to her many random tales she told him. But, she knew nothing about him.

She got the feeling he didn’t like the topic. Whenever she spoke about her Mom or Dad, he’d have this weird lost expression. With him never adding any personal commentary like someone else would about their own parents, she concluded the worst; that his parents were dead or he didn’t have a relationship with them. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.” Malia dismissed her question with a sloppy wave as she looked in his direction and caught sight of his blank expression and smear of guacamole on the corner of his lip. “You have a little something…,” She lifted her finger around the corners of her mouth.

Trying not to laugh over Peter’s clueless reaction and more distraught look over her pointing, she turned her seat to the side and scoot herself forward with a smile. “You have some guacamole on your face, idiot.” She got close enough to wipe away the green splotch from his face and stare at him again. She dabbed the napkin in place awkwardly in silence then spoke. “I don’t want to pry into your family history. But...it’d be nice to know.” She flicked her brown eyes from the napkin she still had pressed to his face and onto his eyes. It was funny how these moments seemed to arise. It was something she couldn’t explain. 

“I mean. You don’t have to have. I’m just wondering.”

Peter broke his eyes away from Malia's and looked out at the stars. His family topped the list of things he didn't like to talk about, but this was Malia who was asking. It's not that he was closing up and hiding things, just that he didn't think some things were worth bringing up, but he was sure Malia didn't see it like that. Kitty's insistence that he be open with Malia came to mind, citing his not being as one of the reasons that she and him didn't work out. Even though he and Malia weren't a couple, he didn't want that to happen with them. He looked back at Malia who had turned her seat forward and returned to eating her food, having apparently dropped the subject due to his silence. 

"I only knew my Mom for most of my life." Malia almost jumped at the sudden break in silence. "She raised me by herself on earth, her half being my human half. I owe a lot of who I am to her." He chuckled to himself. "She was the one who called me Star-Lord growing up. Sure, later on I found out it actually meant something out here, but it was still always what she called me first. And the music." Peter found himself sounding more excited as he continued. "She taught me that music was more than what most people thought of it, that it could carry a message just as good as any book or movie. If a picture is worth a thousand words, the right song is worth ten. She worked so hard to make sure I had the best childhood possible." Peter sat back in his seat, falling silent for a few seconds as he didn't much want to tell the next part. "She died when I was ten."

Peter rested his head on the seat, looking up at the ceiling of the cockpit. "I didn't meet my 'father' until much later, when I was already out here." He practically spat out the word 'father', not even wanting to give that much to the man. "He'd left my Mom before I was even born, planet to run and all. And honestly, the less you know about him the better. I wish I could know less about him, that's for sure." Peter looked at Malia, finding her watching him intently as she listened. "It's a really long story with him, but the abridged version is he's a dick." Peter chuckled as he tried to lighten the mood his talking had dimmed. "Harrison Ford was more of a Dad to me then he ever was."

“Well…,” Malia drifted her brown eyes across her messy plate then over to Peter with a raised eyebrow, deciding to further lighten the conversation. “Han Solo wasn’t really…,” She paused midway into her sentence and allowed her words to fall off, not wanting to ruin the unexpected moment. She didn’t get a lot from him, if nothing at all. “You know what? Nevermind.” She folded her paper plate in half, leaving it open as she reached for his emptied one and smiled. “I know a thing or two about deadbeat fathers,” She confessed while standing up. “So, I get it. They run in most families. Mine’s a riot.” 

She rolled her eyes at the last bit of her sentence, letting out a scoff in addition and walked off to throw away their plates. “But, I just want you to know.” Malia approached the side of the pilot seat not a minute afterward, feeling strangely accomplished over their rare bonding moment. It made her giddy almost. There were plenty of times she wanted to shake things out of him, and here he was willingly speaking to her about his parents. “I want you to know,” She repeated again, “That I’m proud of you.” She braved looking at Peter directly, before giving him a smile. 

“For, not taking the usual Quill-joke and run route of yours. I appreciate it. I’m here for you too, you know. I mean, if you ever need to talk. I’m here.” Malia softly bumped his chair for emphasis and lifted her attention toward the stars, being reminded of their pending destination. She played with the small quartz of her necklace in silence for a few awkward minutes. “I guess, I should go pack us some clothes.” She let out a sigh as she tapped his shoulder gingerly and proceeded toward the ladder then their sleeping quarters, humming a favorite indie tune along the way.

“My heart is beating, in a different way.” She sang in a low voice cautious of Peter overhearing her while she shuffled in and out of her room and into his. Malia grabbed a set of clothes, his dumb walkman, her portable camera, in case the scenery arose for some good photo ops, and emergency food. All in which she stuffed in a really cute messenger bag she'd brought from home. She didn’t know what Contraxia had in store for them. It was apparently a snowy planet so she’d borrow one of Peter’s jackets. “Tell me how did this come to be?” She continued to carol to herself. 

Once she was finished, Malia plopped down on her bed and stared off into the distance. Her eyes lingered over the collage of photos on her wall, she took of her and Peter around the Milano, random pit stops they had made to planets and sneaky snippets of him she had managed to take while he wasn’t looking. Each was clipped to a foam board, littered in various angles due to the amount of space left. She felt the corners of her mouth lift at the memory of explaining to Peter what a ‘selfie,’ was and how to take one as she spotted the many failed attempted photos they took. “Idiot.”

* * *

Peter looked out at the approaching Contraxia, shaking his head as he took back control of the ship from the autopilot. He never thought he'd be coming back here, let alone to see Kalara. The ship descended, the starry sky slowly turning a dull blue as it entered the planet's atmosphere. Malia appeared at his side, nearly making him jump as he hadn't heard her come up. She looked out at the sun reflecting off of the top of the cloud cover. "Wow."

Peter smiled as he watched her snap a picture with her camera. Her moments of genuine wonderment at some of the things they came across were always welcome given how mundane a lot of it had become to him. He took them down through the clouds, finally dipping below them and into a flurry of snow. Peter pushed them down even further until the neon glow of the red light district was visible. Malia pointed at the spot and glanced at Peter. "What's that?"

Peter kept his eyes forward and gave a sheepish shrug before clearing his throat. "I dunno."

Malia narrowed her eyes a bit before looking back out at the white landscape. Peter took them past the district, continuing on towards where he knew there were some mountains. You couldn't see them in the snow, but he knew they were there. The comms crackled to life before an authoritative voice came through. "You are in royal airspace, identify."

Peter scrambled for an answer, not wanting to give their names so easily. They were still wanted after all. "We're guests of Princess Kalara. She's expecting us."

"Identify."

Peter sighed. "Star-Lord."

There was a few seconds of silence. "Not expected."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Peter?"

"Not expected."

Peter shook his head, baffled by the situation. Why wouldn't she leave a name with the guards? A thought crossed his mind. 'She wouldn't have' he thought to himself as he cast a nervous glance at Malia. He cleared his throat, shaking his head at the words he was about to say. "Governor Glutes?"

Another agonizing silence. "Head to the docks at the rear of the palace."

Peter shut off the comms and sat back in his seat. He heard a snicker from Malia and held up a finger. "Not a damn word."

A few seconds later and the palace came into view. It was a sizable cube of a building perched atop a towering mountain. The large, decorative windows twinkled as the light from inside danced across them. Peter flew around to the back of the structure, finding a bunch of ships sitting idly in immaculate rows. He sighed as there were no openings near the small entrance and had to set down a good distance from it. Peter made his way down to the loading docks, grabbing his trench coat and scarf along the way. He opened the door and he and Malia ventured out into the cold. 

The wind bit at anything that wasn't completely covered up. Peter hunched over, trying to keep himself warm as even his coat wasn't doing much. He glanced at Malia and found her to be doing much the same thing. "You okay?"

Malia shot him a look, her eyelashes having caught a fair amount of snow. "Not even a little."

Peter tried to keep the smile off of his face over her eyelashes as they trekked on through the cold. Peter hit the intercom as they finally reached the metal door. The speaker hissed to life as another stoic voice came through. "Identify."

Malia leaned forward, holding up a hand to shield herself from the wind. "Governor Glutes."

A few moments later and the door groaned open. Malia stepped through, shaking her head with a smile on her face. Peter sighed, knowing that she'd already filed away the embarrassing pet name for future use. The corridor they'd stepped into was small and seemed pretty unkempt. Different stairways lined the hall, each leading to who knows what part of the palace. A helmeted guard wearing a purple military coat with gold trim motioned for them from his spot by one of the stairways. Peter shook the snow from himself as he and Malia approached the man. The guard held up a hand just as Peter was about to say something and pointed up the stairs. 

Peter glanced back at Malia, giving her a sympathetic smile and shrug before venturing up the stairs. "Not an overly friendly bunch, as you can see."

Malia put on a disappointed look and shook her head. "That's no way to treat a governor."

Peter sighed. "Come on."

After what felt like a long time, they finally reached the top. The door opened just as they reached it and another guard motioned for them to enter. This new room was much nicer than the hall below. The walls were made of a black stone that looked metallic, it's sheen reflecting the reddish lights that dotted them. A small table sat in the center with a glowing orb as its centerpiece. There were two doors, to the left and the right, each ornately decorated with hand carved designs that weaved in and out of each other. Peter let out a low whistle. "Fancy."

He turned to get a full look at the place, stopping as the door behind him opened. "Peter."

He sighed as the familiarly cordial voice reached his ear and began to turn. "Hey, Kalara."

Malia resisted the urge to roll her eyes back as Kalara waltzed into the decorative hall, holding what appeared to be a dog under her arm. Her simple style gown filled the sides beside her while one guard or personal assistant, she couldn’t quite tell, stood not far behind with an expressionless demeanor. She kept her gaze soley locked on Peter while her pageantry smile widened into a kittenish smirk that instantly faded when her view expanded beyond him. “Oh,” She huffed upon noticing Malia. “You brought her.” She slanted her eyes, giving her rowdy pet over to her subordinate without breaking her daggeress glare. 

“Hi,” Malia offered up her hand as she took a step forward and returned back a similar glare. “I’m Malia.” She made sure her own was less intimidating, cautious of her bodyguard and Peter who confusingly stood by watching their meet and greet. In truth, she didn’t have to introduce herself at all. Just ignore the whole situation until it is done. But — she couldn’t. Yes, she was brought along! Noticing Kalara ignore her extended hand, she placed it against her hip and made her presence even more known. “You can say, I’m Peter’s safe charm.”

Kalara’s brow perked up. “Safe charm?” She walked closer to her, stopping a feet away. “Whom are you keeping him safe from exactly? It can’t possibly be me.” Amidst the barking of her dog, she chuckled, looking amused by the insinuation. “But, I should know. To alarm my guards.” She added in a whisper. 

“Yes. A repellent of sorts. He isn’t the brightest man on the planet.” Malia completely ignored Peter’s surprised look and took another step toward the princess, she and her standing toe to toe with one another now. “And there are many leeches out here. I’m sure you understand my concern. They carry all kinds of diseases. Don’t want him, you know, infected.” 

“Hmm.” Kalara placed her hands above the puffs of her dress with a smile gracing her lips. “Well, we better make sure he doesn’t get attached now. But, if he did, I’m sure a safe-charm girl like yourself has no say in the matter. You know, if he wants to be infected by a leech and lets say...” She leaned herself outward, looked over to Peter then at her again, before using the sparing minute from his blink to mouth, “not you.”

Malia bit the insides of her cheeks, clenched her hands into fists and attempted to open her mouth, ready to throw out any sort of fake pleasantries and shout, but Kalara whipped around toward her assistant before she could and reached for her dog again as if she had won, completely unphased. “I have to go attend to some things unfortunately.” She expressed while running her blue hand across her dog’s fur. “So, Pallas here.” Out from behind the subordinate appeared a timid maid. “Will lead you to your rooms.” Kalara stopped to place a hand over Peter’s chest and lay a lingering kiss close to his lips. “I’ll see you later.” 

_‘Not if I can help it.’_ Malia narrowed her eyes as Kalara finally walked away with her bodyguard, leaving them with Pallas who slowly started to go in the opposite direction without a word. It made the silence between them, awkward to say the least. She wanted to turn around and slap Peter for some unknown reason. Once Pallas brought them to a rather large door, she bowed, meekly saying she would return to let them know when dinner was ready and bowed. Malia thanked her while she pushed open the heavy door and gasped upon her eyes landing on the room’s interior. 

For a brief second or two, she forgot about Kalara and her comment as she took in the very royal-esque bedroom that had its own balcony. She dropped her bag on one of the velvet chairs, turned around in a slow circle and paused when she saw the bed. She dismissed the fact there was just one bed, and focused on how huge it was, neatly made with pillows. “Princess Diaries.” She noted out loud, remembering the childhood film; the scene where Mia was shown to her luxurious room. But, this wasn’t her room rather more Peter’s.

Malia looked over at him from the middle of the room and sighed, making her way to the balcony. She wondered if the weather was as stifling. Seeing as it snowed most of the time, a balcony seemed out of place. She cautiously turned the thin knob and peeked her head out, waiting to be pricked by flakes that never came. “There's a barrier?” She lifted her eyes up to catch the falling snow drift around the balcony instead. While the weather was still felt, she appreciated the magic? “Maybe I should've stayed on the ship,” She mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. “Stupid, Princess.” She hissed out, lowering her arms onto the cold banister to enjoy the chilled breeze in hopes of calming her mood.

Peter removed his scarf and tossed it onto the bed, taking in the overly decorated room. Everything was white and gold, giving off an ornate and wintery feel. He touched the spot on his face that Kalara had kissed, telling himself not to fall for her schtick. Any affection she showed was just a tool to get what she wanted. He remembered how she was, and why he left. But, for Malia's sake he'd go along with her little game. 

Peter looked out on the balcony to Malia. He'd need her to be as onboard with going along with it too, and judging by her squaring off with Kalara a few minutes ago, she wasn't. Peter made his way out onto the balcony, looking out over the snowy landscape. He positioned himself next to Malia, resting his hands on the meticulously crafted railing. "Nice view."

Malia shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Yep."

Peter knew that with Malia one word answers weren't good. It ranked up there with when she cleaned. He glanced at her, noting the distant look on her face. She got like that quite often, all lost in her own thoughts. "Listen, I know Kalara is the devil in disguise, but maybe you could hold back on antagonizing the person who practically holds our freedom in her hands?"

Malia lifted her attention from the frozen scenery below, almost at a loss for words as her mouth fell open and eyes locked onto Peter. "Are you blaming me?" She blurted, once his words sunk in. "I was trying to be nice!" She added, turning her body to face him. How could he stand there and take her side? She narrowed her brown eyes into daggers, feeling the lowered level of anger she was trying to ignore rise again. "I was antagonizing her? Yeah. Maybe. But, she did the same. Or did you choose to forget about that part!?" She hissed as she pushed him away from her. He was supposed to stand up for her, not the other way around. 

She wasn't dumb. She was aware of what she did and admitted it. Still that didn't delude the fact she wanted Kalara to know whatever she was plotting wasn't going to go unseen or easily accomplished. He should've understood that at least. "I know she has the ball in her court, which is why I refuse to be walked on." Malia paused to fold her arms over her chest, the breeze that had picked up, making her shivered a bit and continued to glare at him. "But, I guess she still has some sort of hold over you. Oh, 'I'll see you later.'" She made an over dramatized gesture and mimicked what Kalara had done to the empty space beside her. "Freaking alien bimbo!"

Peter's eyes widened as he desperately tried to salvage something from the situation. He tried to come up for an answer to everything Malia had said, but only felt like he'd be digging himself into a deeper hole. "She doesn't have any 'hold' on me." He made air quotes for emphasis, even though he himself wasn't completely certain of the statement. Kalara had a way of getting what she wanted. "And I'm not taking her side in anything, it's just..." Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose as his words dropped off. "I've got enough to worry about without you getting thrown into a dungeon added to it."

Peter watched Malia, trying to gauge whether or not his words had made an impact. She seemed unimpressed by his defense. Sometimes she refused to believe what he was saying, and it frustrated him to no end. He didn't like it when she was upset, let alone with him. There wasn't much else left to say in his defense, but he refused to have things between them like this for the rest of the night. He needed her on his side in this god awful situation. His head started to bob to the beat of a song in his head. "We aren't leaving this balcony until you're not mad at me."

Malia threw up her brow. "Well, then we're going to be out here a long time."

Peter shook his head as he started to tap his foot. "Don't doubt me, Mal. You know you don't want to be mad at me." Malia turned and looked away from him at the night sky. "You know what I just realized? We've never danced together."

Malia rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "We did, but you were completely drunk."

Peter pointed at her. "If I don't remember it, it doesn't count. Come on." He brought up the lyrics to the song in his head, singing them to the best of his limited abilities. "If you change your mind, I'm first in line." The dumbfounded look on Malia's face almost made him crack up as he held out a hand to her and continued his serenade. "Honey I'm still free, take a chance on me."

“No.” Malia turned herself around, not wanting to break from her current mood and covered her ears. He wasn’t going to be let off the hook so easy. Not with him singing her one his damn old school jams either. As if she hadn’t had enough of them while on the ship. She let out a loud groan as the melody he sang intensified, the catchy words that managed to wiggle through her closed fingers, making her shake her head and smile against her crucial attempt to remain angry. It was a good thing her back was turned. She didn’t want him to think he had won. She was still mad at him. 

“If you need me, let me know. Gonna be around.”

“Never.” Feeling Peter’s arms snake around her waist and slowly turn her toward him in a graceful manner, Malia took the opportunity to shield her face with her hands instead of her ears, knowing full well if she made any sort of eye contact with him, she was bound to crack and give into his foolishness. “I hate you.” She grumbled into the palm of her hands as she felt herself being brought closer to him and his continuous melody. How long was the song? She let out a deep sigh, peeking out of the openings of her fingers and slumped her shoulders down in defeat, realizing he wasn’t going to stop.

“Don’t let this fool you,” Malia pointed at her smiling expression, before continuing. “I’m still very angry. Like a buttload. Kill you in your sleep kind. Are you listening to me?” She twirled outward onto the side of the balcony, holding onto his hand and wrapped back around, trying to become somewhat serious again. She closed the space between them and placed her free hand over his shoulder. “I’m going to try, and I mean try my hardest, okay? Not to punch her…,” She expressed while Peter started to hum the song he had been caroling to her. “Or you, while we’re here. For our sakes.” 

She swayed along with the foot-tapping ditty in silence for a brief minute and enjoyed their unexpected dance under the gleam of the night stars above, her anger long having faded into a small flame. “But,” Malia flicked her coffee colored eyes up to his face with a stern look lodged across her own and stared at him. “You have to — I don’t know, just stop playing stupid.” She reworded what she was going to say, being too caught up in his eyes or rather her nerves. She did want him to stop playing stupid. Especially with her. But, maybe he’d take the hint if she…

_If she just showed him?_

Malia slowly leaned herself into his arms, her heart beginning to flutter and cheeks starting to flush then suddenly froze. 

No.

Peter furrowed his brow as Malia's request sunk in. There were any number of things that she could be referencing with his playing stupid, but he had a suspicion of what she was talking about. Their, _'connection'_ as Peter called it was something that neither of them chose to bring up in conversation, even though they'd both acknowledged it in little ways. It'd just become a normal part of their friendship, albeit one that drove Peter crazy at times. He had his reasons for not pushing the subject, and Malia hadn't either, which left them in a kind of stalemate. Hell, she might not even feel exactly the same as he did. So, if that's what she meant by him not playing dumb, did that mean she wanted him to acknowledge it? But, what if he did and that wasn't what she'd meant? Things aboard the Milano would get real awkward to say the least. 

As was often the case, she'd left him baffled and unsure of what to say. He thought of just asking her what she meant, but he didn't want the peacefulness of the moment to end. He'd stopped humming, leaving them to slowly dance in silence. After a couple of minutes, Peter couldn't help but open his mouth again. "Thanks for at least trying not to assassinate the princess."

Malia laughed, looking up at him. "I can only try."

Peter nodded. "And I'll try not to do anything stupid or unsavory."

Malia shook her head. "Impossible."

Peter put on a wounded look. "At least have a little faith in me." He started up the song he'd sung her earlier again. "Take a chance on-"

Malia put a hand over his mouth, cutting off the lyrics. "That's enough of that."

Peter pulled his head away from her hand. "Come on. That could be our song. Me and Kalara had a song."

Malia tensed up as anger crept back over her face. "Oh, really?"

Peter nodded as a grin crossed his face. "Evil Woman by Electric Light Orchestra. I mean, I picked it for her after I was a safe distance away from the planet, but still."

Malia seemed taken aback for a few seconds before she finally started to laugh. Peter laughed along with her, glad he'd at least been able to lighten her mood a little bit. Their lighter was cut short by a loud knocking at the door in the room and a cordial voice from outside. "Your presence is requested in the dining room."

Peter sighed as he reluctantly separated from Malia. "Let's get this over with."

Malia inhaled a deep breath as Pallas greeted them with a small bow and guided them in silence to the large dining area that was located on a floor below. Pallas stood beside it’s entrance once they arrived, extending out an arm and waited for them to enter. “If you may,” She instructed, seating Peter at the center of the long platinum table big enough for a council to congregate in, and then turned toward her. “At my Lady’s request, the head of the table was granted to you.” She announced, pulling out the silver laced chair for her to sit in, which Malia hesitantly lowered herself into.

She certainly didn’t appreciate the unexpected gesture. From all the historic television series and films she’d seen, royalty sat at the head of the table. “Thank you?” Malia expressed, uncertain of her own choice in words. She already wasn’t liking whatever Kalara had pre-planned. Setting her lips into a stern thin line, she gave Peter a look as Pallas excused herself from the room, leaving them to some privacy. “You see? She’s already starting—,” She whispered in his direction, before being cut off by the opening of the door.

“Father, you remember my sweet Peter, don’t you?” Kalara stepped into the room, accompanied by an older looking gentleman, who bowed his head in acknowledgement to her question. “Of course. Yes. I remember, Patrick.” He retorted, being reminded by his daughter of the correct name. He chuckled half-heartedly at his mistake and took a seat across Malia, on the other end of the table, before noticing her presence. “My god. Who might you be?” He asked abruptly, digging into the folds of his coat pocket. “Another terran?” He added, pulling out a pair of glasses he struggled to adjust onto his face.

“She’s his safe-charm. Repellent of Leeches.” Kalara clarified for her father as she took a rather slow seat across from Peter and fixed the opening of what looked like a very fancy bathrobe instead of a proper evening dress. “I believe her name is Malia.” She further stated with a pageant smile painted on her lips. She ignored looking in her direction and focused her attention solely on Peter whilst her father nodded and aligned a napkin over his lap. “Well, she is a beautiful terran safe-charm, if I may say so.” He chorused, causing Kalara to scowl and whip her head toward her father in anger. 

Malia watched on, unable to keep the smile from her face. By the way her father reacted minutes ago, she thought he had something against Terrans? Which she assumed meant human. But, he didn’t. He was just old. She let the anger she felt over Kalara’s inappropriate dress code and ogling of Peter waver for a bit, to bow her head and thank him for the compliment. “I come from Earth.” She contributed, hoping to steer a lengthy conversation her way to avoid any dispute between her and Kalara. She had promised to try and therefore was attempting to do so. 

“Oh, really?” 

Hearing Kalara’s Father retort in an upbeat tone, Malia proceeded to tell him about New York, watching his brows raise in surprise as he beckoned her to continue. Her eyes quickly darted to Pete. She gave him a smile and then leaned back into her chair, feeling triumphant almost. Maybe she did belong seated at the head of the table. The look on Kalara’s face, riddled with irritation, was worth the spot. She figured this was how someone in power felt. And how she’d keep the ball in their court; through her father. At least for as long as she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Malia's relationship is showing ;) and there's more to come then that,


	19. Chapter 14

Peter was shocked at how smoothly the dinner had gone thus far. Malia had been regaling the king of a planet with her tales of life on earth. And at the end each story the old man would have another question that would start off a whole new tale, leaving his food to cool. Peter found himself getting caught up in watching and listening to Malia as she told her stories as well. He'd heard all of this before as she would often just talk to him, but the way she was telling it now was different than that. This was a story, delivered with all the flair that one would expect from hearing a story. He couldn't help but chuckle at the girl from earth holding the attention of a space king with her tales of mundane life. 

Peter jumped as something touched his foot, immediately turning his attention to Kalara who sat across from him. The princess locked eyes with him as she continued to caress his foot with hers. Peter glanced nervously at Malia, and then the king himself before mouthing the word 'stop'. 

Kalara cocked her head as a smirk crossed her lips. She moved her foot up his leg, making him push his chair back away from the table, the legs screeching on the floor as he did. Malia paused her story as both her and the king gave Peter quizzical looks, causing him to sheepishly chuckle and push his seat forward again. "So, Porter." The king had turned his attention to his other guest. "Remind me again, what was your business?"

Peter froze, trying desperately to recall the lie he'd concocted on his last visit. He looked to Kalara who wore a triumphant smile. "He was in shipping, father. Moving goods and such. Remember, that's why he and I spent so much time together? I was helping him map out routes as he was unfamiliar with this part of space."

Peter furrowed his brow, surprised by her help in the situation. The king nodded. "Yes, that's right. My daughter, always looking to help others." Malia coughed from the other end of the table. "Are you alright?"

Malia held up a hand. "Fine, just fine." 

She covered her mouth with her hand as she coughed again. Peter noted the smile she was hiding, and judging by the stare Kalara was giving her so hard she. The king nodded before continuing his conversation. "I hope you weren't here for business. Ever since I got my private shipping routes cleared up I've not had much need of goods being moved by outside parties."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Private shipping routes?"

The king nodded, a pleased look on his face. "Yes, it took some doing getting them set up, but I've now got routes all over the galaxy."

Peter leaned forward, finding himself interested. "And the 'private' part?"

The king sat back as a servant took away his untouched food. "Completely unmonitored and hidden. Can't be too careful with all the riff raff out there."

Peter glanced at Malia who looked like she was trying to follow his thoughts. "Unmonitored? Not even by Novas?"

The king shook his head. "Not even by Novas."

Peter nodded, looking at Kalara who watched him intently. Those routes would be a godsend for him and Malia. The ability to get anywhere in the galaxy without the watchful eyes of the Nova Corps so much as glimpsing them was too good to be true. "Would you be willing to let me use your routes?"

The king furrowed his brow, shaking his head. "No, I wouldn't. It took me years to get them set up and I can't just let anybody use them. Apologies, Paul."

Peter nodded, disappointed by the answer. Kalara brushed his foot again, drawing his attention towards her as she gave him a knowing look. Peter furrowed his brow as the king returned his attention to Malia. Kalara leaned forward, keeping her voice lower then the others so Peter had to lean in to hear. "What are you thinking, Peter?"

Peter glanced at the king, making sure his attention was fully on Malia. "I'm thinking I want access to those private routes."

Kalara gave a small smile. "And you want me to help you get it."

Peter nodded. "You've got your old man wrapped around your finger. All it would take was an eyelash flutter and a 'daddy' and I'd be Nova free."

Kalara chuckled, locking eyes with Peter. "And why would I do that?"

She was right. All the cards were in her hand. Peter had nothing to bargain with. "Come on. After all I'm doing for you by coming out here and going to that party? You won't even do me one little favor?"

Peter could see her devious mind working behind her eyes. He almost regretted even asking as she caressed the back of his hand. "I'm sure we can work something out."

Malia looked on between Peter and Kalara through a thin veil of irritation and tried her best to listen in to their hushed conversation. She caught the, ‘private routes,’ insinuation he had expressed out loud for her to hear, but she wanted to know what more was being secretly discussed — catching next to nothing over the King’s one-sided chatter. She forced on a smile as he described some sort of Contraxia tale and moved her hands away from her half-eaten dish as her plate was taken away. “It was a lovely meal,” She managed to slip in between one of his long pauses, glad their dinner was finally over.

All she wanted to do was high-tail back to their shared room and ask Peter what was whispered about, on top of the little charade she took notice of. “Thank You,” She lifted herself from her seat, giving a small curtsy to go along and awkwardly approached the room’s double doors as the King shuffled himself out of his own chair. “A lovely meal indeed,” He wholeheartedly chimed with an acknowledging nod, placing his worn bifocals back into the folds of his coat pocket. “And to a fine evening. Kalara.” He gave his daughter a doting kiss on the forehead then exited the dining room from the opposite side.

“Well, I guess it’s time for us to be going now,” Malia beckoned Peter, who seemed stuck in place, over with her hand then eyes, darting them toward the door for emphasis and froze when Kalara waltzed to his side and latched her arms around his. “Yes. We must.” She answered back, nuzzling her head against his shoulder. ‘This is what he agreed to?’ Malia discreetly bawled her hands into fists behind her back, and pretended to be relatively calm. “Of course! Well, you two have a wonderful time.” She copied one of Kalara's pageantry smiles before opening the door and locked eyes with Peter.

She’d trust him. 

“Goodnight.” Bowing her head, she turned to exit out of the room and make her way back to their private quarters without Pallas’s guide. Once inside, she stood wordless in the middle of the empty bedroom, unsure of what to exactly do. Wait? She knew Kalara had asked for something in return for the ‘private routes.’ That was now unfortunately clear to her. And she couldn’t do anything about it. They needed this unexpected loophole. So, she was going to accept it, get over it and be supporting? Even if it meant her pushing aside her feelings for their sake.

Peter glanced at Kalara as she held onto his arm, leading him to 'discuss terms' as she'd put it. He hated to even ask her for anything, and normally wouldn't, but this private route could be he and Malia's perfect getaway from the Novas. But, knowing Kalara it wouldn't be for free. He didn't have anything worth offering though, Kalara had to know that, so there was no telling what she was planning. Kalara stopped as they reached an ornate door. "Would you mind?"

Peter looked from her to the door, sighing as he pushed it open. The room was decorated similarly to his own, only much bigger. Kalara separated her arm from his as he turned and shut the door. "So, about those routes."

Peter almost jumped as he found her standing only a couple of inches in front of him. She narrowed her eyes, studying him like he was some kind of pet in a cage. "Why did you leave, Peter?"

He was caught off guard by the personal nature of the question. His mind immediately had the answer 'Because you were psychotic, manipulative and more interested in having me as a slave then anything else', but thought better of it. He'd hold himself to the same 'no antagonization' guideline as Malia, just to get through this. "Well, for starters what we were doing was illegal."

Kalara rolled her eyes and the answer. "Because you're such an upstanding citizen of the galaxy. Give me a better answer, then we can talk terms."

Peter furrowed his brow, trying to come up with a convincing enough lie as the truth would most likely get him locked up. He took a deep breath, swallowed his pride, and continued. "It was me. I didn't think I was good enough for you, okay?"

Peter died inside just saying the words, regardless of their authenticity, but playing to Kalara's ego was a good strategy in his experience. Kalara gave a small, victorious smile as she placed a hand on his chest. "Oh, Peter. You're not, but I like you despite your glaring inadequacies."

Peter yelled internally while putting on a smile. "Then I'm lucky. Now, as for those terms. You know what I want. What do you want?"

Kalara shook her head. "Still so dense." She shot a hand up, grabbing the back of his head and pulling it down so they were face to face. "I want you, idiot."

Then she kissed him. He'd been afraid that if she pulled something like this he'd fall right back into her trap, but he oddly found himself too distracted by something she'd said. Idiot. She'd called him an idiot. It was the same thing Malia often called him, but it sounded so different coming from Kalara's mouth. When she said it she actually meant it, being completely sure she was talking to someone below her in every way. But when Malia used the word for him, there was never a hint of even negativity in her voice. It was almost like she'd taken the word and stripped every bad meaning it had away. He'd taken it as a term of endearment, actually liking when she called him by it. 

Kalara pulled back, obviously displeased by him not returning the kiss. "Peter?"

Peter shook himself from his thoughts of Malia, looking Kalara in the eyes. "Those are your terms?"

Kalara furrowed her brow, obviously confused by his reaction. "Y-yes?"

Peter nodded, standing up straight. He wanted to get out of there. "I'm going to need to discuss this with my partner. Get back to you?"

Kalara looked like she'd just been asked an impossible question, shaking her head, brow wrinkled in thought. "Partner? I thought she was your 'safe charm'."

Peter opened the door, muttering under his breath. "She's obviously not good at that." 

Peter turned to leave, not wanting to continue talking. "Peter!" He stopped, sighing deeply as he turned back around. "What is she to you?"

Peter blinked, unprepared for one of her questions yet again. He thought back over all the time he'd spent with Malia, all the little moments he found himself thinking about when he was alone. Then of their baffling connection and the uncertainty surrounding it. He threw up his hands, turning to leave once again. "How the hell should I know?"

Peter found himself moving quickly down the hall, wanting to put some distance between him and Kalara lest she have a meltdown. That and he wanted to get back to Malia. As if their relationship wasn't confusing enough, now she was popping into his head when he was kissing other girls. It'd felt like he was betraying her somehow. How exactly he didn't know, seeing as they weren't together. He was jogging now, trying to remember where his room was. After a few minutes, he finally found it. 

Peter practically burst through the door, making Malia jump up from her seat on the foot of the bed. He took a moment to catch his breath before speaking, which gave his mind more time to confuse him. 

“Well,” Malia lifted her hands over her head to adjust the wrapped towel covering her wet hair and widened her eyes in surprise as she secured the cloth back in place. “That was fast.” She looked at the garnished wall clock, reading the passed time, then back at Peter with a raised brow. ‘Only ten-minutes?’ She bit down on her lower lip to try and suppress her laughter. She was supposed to remain unphased. “So, how’d it go?” She managed to ask once she composed herself. “Do you need a bacterial wipe?” She stood up from the comfort of the plush bed and walked over to Peter, confused by the look on his face.

‘What happened over there?’ She wondered, unsure if her assumption was correct. Peter’s bewildered expression made her think otherwise. “Ew.” She mumbled as inappropriate images of him and Kalara plagued her mind, making her want to gag. “You know what, don’t tell me.” Malia held up a hand to his face. It was best she stayed unaware for her sanity. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared at him, becoming almost worried by his unusual demeanour. “Did she steal your soul!?” She blurted. What was going on?

Peter stared at Malia silently as she awaited an answer, a look of confusion on her face. He wasn't even sure why he'd ran off to find her in the first place. Honestly, it'd probably only made his situation worse. He straightened up and tried to reign in his thoughts. "So, negotiations for the private route went... "

Malia raised her brow. "Went what?"

Peter shook his head as he walked past Malia and grabbed a fancy looking bottle of booze. "Just went." He pulled open the bottle and took a swig of the liquid, disappointed at the low amount of burning it did. "You weren't far off with the space gigolo thing earlier." Peter glanced at Malia, noting the quizzical look on her face. "Please don't make me spell it out."

"You don't. I thought that was what you were already doing in there." She clarified, standing in the middle of the room. "Getting your, 'space gigolo,' on." She placed air quotes around the humorous title and rolled her brown eyes at how oblivious Peter pretended to be. He caught on pretty quickly when he brought girls aboard the Milano. Yet, here he was, surprised by Kalara's proposition? "Did you seriously think she wanted to play cards in exchange?" Malia felt herself add as she watched him sit on the edge of the bed and take another gulp from the snow white bottle he held. “Even I know your not that stupid, Peter.” She scoffed, making her way around the bed to grab their duffel bag.

She placed it on top of the mattress, rummaged inside it and pulled out one of his packed shirts. “So…,” She drawled out, throwing the garment at his head. “Change out of that shirt, to at least look presentable, and—I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…,” Malia hesitated to continue, feeling sick to her stomach almost. “Go give her the best fifty-shades of Star Lord!” She advised, unable to look up from the open bag in front of her. That was the furthest thing she ever wanted to tell Peter to do. In fact, it made her uncomfortable. Even if it was for their benefit, as she often reminded herself, she rather have him stay in the room with her. “Just,” Malia lifted her eyes up to catch Peter, raised his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side to grab the one she had thrown. “Make it quick?”

Peter paused before putting on his shirt the rest of the way. He'd expected the exact opposite reaction from Malia. Hell, he'd hoped for it as it would've given him an excuse not to go back to Kalara. "You're pretty quick to agree to things when I have to do them." He looked at her, giving a halfhearted smile. Part of him wanted to tell her why he didn't want to do it, but that would mean him having to spill everything right now. And of course he knew Kalara would try something. That wasn't what had him baffled, that 'honor' went Malia. 

Peter stood up and sighed. Ad much as he'd like to deny that they needed those routes, the fact was they did, or at least would. The closer they.got to where they were going, the heavier the Nova presence would get. "You sure you don't want to go do it?" Malia folded her arms across her chest and gave him one of her looks. Peter chuckled before taking another drink from the bottle. "Well," He handed the bottle to Malia, trying to keep the mood light. "better get out there." He started towards the door, his mind already plagued with thoughts. Peter stopped, looking back at Malia. "If you tell me not to go, I won't."

"As much as I don't want you to do it," Malia confessed through a heavy sigh. "And I really don't," She added underneath her breath. "What happens if you don't? It's not like she can't come in the middle of the night and kidnap you." She detailed, looking over at him with flickering apprehension. Kalara didn't seem like the type who accepted someone's formal refusal with dignity and grace. Rather more with false airs that ultimately ended in her forced favor. "I don't know." Malia lifted her hands up in a deflated notion and sat herself beside the open duffel bag, before placing the alcohol bottle on the nightstand. She needed to think of something.

“Maybe…?” She chimed after a few minutes of awkward silence. “You can just, I don’t know, uh—,” She ran her index finger across her neck, adding an unpleasant noise for effect and turned her attention back around. “I mean, while your, ‘you know,’ you can cover her face and wack!” She punched the air abruptly as a demonstration, imagining the scene in her head. ‘It could work,’ Malia thought, taking notice of Peter’s horrified expression. “I’m joking.” She let out a nervous, re-tightened her robe’s belt and exhaled, fresh out of ideas. She had been honest with him; she didn’t want him to go, no longer avoiding the truth. “What would Han Solo do?”

Peter shrugged. "Roguishly charm his way out of it."

Malia sighed as she sat back on the bed, propping herself up on her hands. "Well, that's just not an option for you, now is it?"

Peter folded his arms across his chest. "I can be charming."

Malia shook her head, stifling a laugh. "You get lucky with it once in a while."

Peter shook his head, glancing at the clock on the wall. Kalara would be getting impatient, and what Malia had said wasn't far off. If he refused she'd make them miserable one way or another. Here he'd thought talking to Malia would clear things up a bit, but no, quite the opposite. Her admission that she didn't want him to do it only made him feel worse for inevitably having to. Peter sighed as he turned to open the door. "Not really any getting out of it." He glanced back at Malia who gave him a morose nod in agreement. There really wasn't anything else to say. Peter opened the door and stepped into the hall, giving Malia a hopeless shrug before setting off. 

The walk back to Kalara's room felt impossibly long, getting turned around twice didn't help. He felt more conflicted then he had when he'd left her the first time, and it'd only gotten worse by the time he finally found the room. Peter sighed before raising his hand to knock, but then dropped it back to his side. He couldn't go through with this with Malia plaguing his mind. Not even with as bad as they'd need those routes. He'd just disappear for tonight and tomorrow make up some story about how he'd gotten lost in the winding halls of the palace. That'd at least buy him some time. He turned to leave, making it only a few feet before the bedroom door opened behind him. "Where are you off to now, Peter?"

* * *

Malia let out another deep sigh, the sound of the ticking clock beginning to irritate her. What was she supposed to do now? She slowly drifted her eyes around the glittering white and gold environment in search for the answer. The sight of the room, empty and quiet with her just in it made her heart feel heavy. She had been left alone before while Peter went out and ran undisclosed 'errands,' she never cared to ask about. But, this time, it was different. She was aware of what he was doing and it bothered her, leaving her with this nauseating gnawing in her stomach. She should have taken her chance.

Lifting herself from the bed, Malia changed into her Harry Potter pajamas then stood amidst the middle of the room, biting her nails. She looked toward the door with desolate eyes and hoped for Peter. That, like in the movies, at any second, he would burst through them, telling her he wouldn’t do it. That there was some other way, some random Star-Lord plan of his. That he, between all of the plotting and explaining, felt the same? She shook her head as the minutes ticked on and the door remained the same; shut. He wasn’t coming back and she somehow had to wrap her head around that realization.

She should have taken her chance, when she had it. To tell him. Everything. Malia pulled open one of the doors to the room, poked her head out and glanced down the empty hall, unsure of what she expected to find and retreated inside. She pressed her back against the frame of the door and deeply exhaled for what seemed like the hundredth time, desperately wanting the sick feeling she felt to go away. “Ugh!” She pushed herself from the flat surface with a scowl and stalked over to the bed once more, grumbling under her breath. “Stupid Feelings!” She harshly huffed, digging around their bag for Peter’s walkman.

“Stupid. Singing. Idiot.” She continued to hiss as she walked toward the balcony, walkman in hand and attempted to throw it out into the snowy terrain below with a heavy breath. She figured the loss of his music would hurt him, make him feel some of her anguish at least. Yet, her fingers wouldn’t unclench from the item, no matter what. “Stupid, Peter.” Malia lowered her arm down, feeling the night breeze tickle her exposed skin and paused to stare at the night sky. She watched the stars and the snowflakes that danced until she felt calm again then dragged herself into the empty bedroom, ready to sleep.

Or turn in discomfort till her brain shut itself off. She had too many plaguing thoughts to fall without effort asleep. As much as she tried, laying there, her mind drifted to Peter and Kalara time and time again over the pendulum tick of the clock in the room. She tossed and turned, till she found herself staring helplessly at the empty space next to her where he should’ve laid. “I hate you.” Malia whispered in the same blissful state she had while they danced about the balcony and placed his walkman on the pillow next to her’s. In spirit, she’d pretend he was there. For her comfort. To allow the sleep to finally overtake her, with one of his old school tunes.

* * *

Peter slowly shuffled through the large palace hall, rubbing his eyes as he went. Sleep had not seen it fit to visit him last night, instead leaving him to his own thoughts. So, he'd have to prepare for and attend Kalara's event with zero hours of sleep. As if it weren't going to be miserable enough. Maybe he could grab a nap and give that big, comfy bed in his room a try. After, of course, looking in on Mal. She hadn't been in the best of moods when he'd left, neither had he, but she'd gotten that distant look which meant she was getting lost in her own thoughts. What usually followed was her being uncomfortably quiet or seeming upset. That's why Peter had made it a habit to distract her when she started to get too quiet. 

That and his own thoughts he had to contend with. The connection between him and Malia had only continued to strengthen, despite his efforts to ignore it. Last night though it'd hit a high. He knew what it was, but putting the name to it meant admitting it to himself, and he knew that admitting it to her followed soon after that. 

Peter reached the room they'd been given and took a deep breath before pushing it open. The morning light had lit the room in a blue tint, giving it an even more wintery look then it'd had before. Malia was still asleep, breathing softly with his headphones crookedly on her head. He smiled at the sight before carefully tiptoeing to her side of the bed. Very carefully he reached over her and grabbed his Walkman from the pillow beside her. He looked at the device, taking a deep breath before hooking it on his belt. Peter bent down, carefully taking the headphones from her head. It had apparently not been careful enough as Malia's eyes fluttered open, immediately locking into his face above her own. Peter froze like a deer in headlights. "Uh, morning."

Malia remained silent, blinking some of the sleep from her eyes and stared up at Peter with a poker-faced expression, before turning on her side and completely ignoring him. "Idiot." She grumbled, pulling the covers over her face to block the pesky morning light and fluttering feeling his unexpected closeness had garnered over her. She hated him for it, amongst other things. And while part of her wanted to sit up and strangle him there and then with the wires of his walkman, she sought the silent treatment instead for what he was internally putting her through. At this point, she just wanted the whole situation to be done and over with, missing the seclusive comfort of the Milano. 

She never thought she would say that, her statement of leaving the ship to ‘stretch their legs,’ reeling itself in as a contradicting reminder. Malia groaned to herself over the fact and pressed the comforter of the bed further against her. She turned into the shuffling noise of Peter’s footsteps as he made his way around the other side she presumed, and stopped. Underneath the veil of the sheet, she narrowed her eyes in his direction as she felt the mattress shift from his weight, and let out another groan. He froze, rightfully so, and she waited, pretending to be at ease until he got comfortable and planned her line of attack. She couldn’t break his walkman before, but hitting him for it would be enough. 

Peeking her eyes out from the comforter to see Peter’s back faced toward her, Malia sat up and grabbed her pillow without making a sound. She was going to feather him to death and feel alot better about it afterward. “Uh, morning?” She mimicked his moronic greeting in an apathetic tone, before smacking his shoulder with her pillow. “That’s what you say to me?” She added, continuing her assault. “It’s like you have zero sense, I swear.” She swatted Peter across the face as he attempted to get a word in, in between hits, while he shielded his face and sighed. “What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you just…UGH!” She tried to suffocate him with her pillow, not being able to finish her sentence.

Peter managed to pry the pillow from his face, only getting another swift slap as a reward. "Isn't that what you say in the morning?!" Malia only growled, continuing to swing for his face. Peter was finally able to catch her hands, holding them together as he sat up beside her. She pulled against his grip, glaring at him the whole time. "If I let you go, do you promise not to try and kill me again?"

Malia rolled her eyes, averting her angry gaze away from him. "Maybe."

Knowing that was the best he was going to get from her, Peter let go of her hands. The pair sat next to each other in silence for a minute as Peter tried to find words to say. He hadn't seen her this upset since they'd first met and only felt like he knew part of the reason why she was now. "So, you're obviously upset." Malia shot him a look that would send most into silence, but Peter had either overcome that or lacked the sense to do so. "And frankly I'm not completely sure what it is I did, but I'm sorry for whatever it was." 

He wound his headphone wires around his Walkman and sat it on the nightstand behind him. "It's not like I try to shake you up or anything, it's just that I'm... I don't know, an idiot I guess. But, I try, I really do." Peter waited until Malia looked like she'd at least somewhat accepted his words before laying down. "I'm going to grab some sleep, I didn't get any last night." He looked at Malia to find her glaring at him again. Peter sighed as he rolled over so his back was to her. "Not like that. If all this was about was last night, I didn't even go through with it."

"What?" Malia felt her anger almost subside as Peter's confession reached her ears, causing her to fall silent from the surprise. 'He didn't go through with it?' She knitted her brows together, confused by the fact, as a litter of questions filled her mind. "Then why didn't you come back here?" She wondered out loud, turning to face him. He wasn't going to nonchalantly fall asleep with such a revelation. She needed answers. If he hadn't done the deed then why hadn't returned back to her? "And what about the routes? Does that mean we're screwed? Can we not leave?" Malia slapped Peter's leg for some sort of response out of him.

'Could they leave?' She added as an afterthought to herself, prepared to pack their things and hightail out of Contraxia without a second thought. She was aware of how vital those private routes were; granting them a sense of security for however long and safety from the watchful eye of the Nova Corp, but — she couldn't allow Peter to lose his integrity over it, or whatever ounce he had left. More importantly, she couldn't just stand idly by while Kalara took advantage of their predicament. “Peter, can you please…,” Malia huffed, taking in a deep breath. “Answer me, before I kill you.”

Peter groaned as he rolled over to face Malia. "I guess it was too much to hope that you'd let me sleep, huh?" Malia only folded her arms across her chest in response as Peter sighed. "For starters, I didn't come back to the room because I didn't really get a chance. Kalara kept me up for a while 'negotiating', and then I was in the Milano looking for something and ended up back here just now." He rubbed his eyes. "And unfortunately, no, we still have to attend that stupid party or whatever it was." 

Peter rubbed his eyes as he tried to abridge the complicated back and forth he and Kalara had had last night. He'd especially exclude the parts about her. "Kalara and I came to something of an agreement, so we'll still get to use the routes. That's all that matters." Peter reached for his Walkman, setting the headphones close to where his head would be. He turned it up all the way and pressed play. "Now, can I get some sleep without worrying about you killing me while I do?"

“Okay.” Malia lifted herself from the bed, keeping her arms folded and squinted her eyes, Peter’s explanation not sitting well with her. It only left her with more questions. And while she appreciated his unreliable clarification, she wanted the full story, not the Peter Quill version. Sighing deeply, she let her shoulders slump and arms fall back into place as the shallow melody from his walkman filled her ears, followed by his faint breathing. “Okay.” She repeated again, a little more aggressively, before grabbing their duffel bag and walking into the massive bathroom to change.

Once inside, Malia locked the door and shuffled out of her pajamas, lost in thought. She threw on the simple blouse and pants combo she had brought along then sat herself on top of the toilet seat, debating whether or not to push the subject any further with Peter. The routes were all that mattered, right? She placed her face into her hands and stayed in that position for what seemed like hours until there was a firm knock on the bedroom door. “Breakfast!” She heard a bashful voice announce, causing her to lift her head. ‘Pallas?’ She thought as she exited the bathroom to open the door.

“Oh. Wow.” Malia’s eyes widened at the pampered table Pallas rolled in, layered with morning delight and smiled. She figured she could let Peter have his sleep while she enjoyed a hearty breakfast platter. “Thank You. This looks delicious.” She beamed, watching the timid maid bow politely and retreat out of the room shortly afterward. “Now…,” Malia wheeled the table near the bed, grabbing a plate and made herself comfortable on the edge of the mattress. She filled her dish with relatively familiar rations and ate in silence, glaring over at Peter sleeping form from time to time.

Her eyes softened after a while as she covered a plate she made for him and walked out to the balcony for some fresh air. The stilled sky was no longer overcome with snowflakes rather it’s usual blue hue amidst the sunlight, making her feel relieved to see. It allowed her to release whatever pent up worry she harbored and enjoy the sight. Placing her elbows on the banister and propping her chin on the palm of her hand, Malia stared out onto the white covered environment and for once steered clear of drowning herself in her own thoughts. Instead she opted for singing, in a whisper, one of Peter’s annoying old school hits till he woke from his nap.

* * *

P eter opened his eyes, groaning as the light of the day assaulted them. He rolled over to face away from the window as he got his bearings. Waking up in such an upscale setting had thrown him off for a few seconds. Peter slowly sat up, putting his feet on the ground as he looked around the room. A plate of food covered with a napkin sat on the nightstand next to his Walkman. He grabbed a pastry, stuffing the whole thing in his mouth as he stood up. Malia wasn't around, so he assumed she must've gone for a walk around the place. Kalara wouldn't have done anything to her. She was pretty, not evil. 

Peter grabbed his Walkman and clipped it into his belt as he made his way to the door. He put his headphones around his neck and flipped the cassette over before pressing play. The first notes of a familiar song hit his ears as he opened the door and almost ran right into the maid from last night. She jumped at his sudden appearance, quickly bowing her head. "Apologies. My lady requests that I take you to prepare for tonight's event."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Prepare how?"

The maid folded her hands in front of her, keeping her eyes down. "You are to be taken to a 'specialist' that my lady has hired to make you presentable for the night's event."

Peter sighed and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Lead the way." The maid bowed before turning and making her way down the hall. "You happen to see Malia around?"

The maid shook her head. "Not since this morning when I delivered breakfast to your room."

Peter let his eyes wander around the hall. He was sure Malia would still be on the subject of last night when he next saw her, so he was okay with having missed her for the moment. Peter patted his Walkman as the maid opened a large door and stood aside for him to enter. A tall being wearing brightly immaculate clothes eyed Peter as he entered the room. The pale blue man let out a long sigh as he continued to look Peter over, a look of disgust on his face. "I didn't realize the princess had reached out to the homeless community for tonight's companion."

Peter looked down at his clothes, not seeing the problem with his casual getup of black cargo pants and a T-shirt. Sure, it wasn't formal wear, but still it wasn't that bad. "Listen, if I want advice on how to dress, I'm not gonna ask the guy who looks like he's wearing the Collector's hand me downs."

The man straightened up, his mouth curling into a deep frown. "And rude to match. That I can't help, but I 'can' help with... this."

The man waved his hand over Peter as though he were showing off a piece of art. Peter rolled his eyes as he put on his headphones. "Alright," He looked up at the man and shrugged. "don't make me look too stupid."

* * *

“He’s an idiot, Burter.” Malia flatly huffed to the servant next to her as she mimicked the dough pattern he effortlessly made and stacked to one side. Hers lacked the overall presentation, having more of a misshapen form and rather stressful handling — but, he didn’t seem to mind, never once acknowledging her pile. “Like, wouldn’t you as a man, come out and say what you have to say.” She continued to say while following the middle-aged butler around the kitchen toward the oven with her deformed clump of dough. “Maybe, I should quit him? "

She turned over to the silent male, uncertain of her own statement. She never expected getting advice from one of Kalara’s manservants. Not long after she had finished humming one of Peter’s songs out on the balcony, she tired of waiting for him and decided to roam the palace until then, somewhere along the way, getting lost and ending up in the kitchen with the help. Burter was one of the few servants who didn’t rudely turn her away, language barrier and all. He simply nodded to her rampant talking about Peter while he cooked like a good friend would. 

It made Malia realize how much missed having someone to talk to. To listen to her. She in retrospect had Peter and Tochi, from time to time. Sighing, she threw her unworthy dough into the nearest bin and sat down. “I sometimes think I should’ve stayed back on Earth. You know, to have avoided this whole thing. These…,” She paused in her train of thought to look down at her hands, covered in flour. “—feelings.” She lifted her brown eyes slowly up toward Burter, who stared at her with a melancholy expression. He placed a hand over his chest, where his heart she assumed was and smiled. 

He spoke in the native tongue of Contraxia a few words she clearly didn’t understand, yet held his hand firm over his chest as the wrinkle lines from his forehead fell. Malia knitted her brows together, placing a hand over her own heart, and stared back at him, confused by his gesture. She watched him pat his hand over his heart until she caught what he was possibly trying to say. “Heart. Follow your heart?” She asked, wanting to roll her eyes at how cliche it sounded. Her heart was a mess. So, how was she supposed to do that? Burter approached her while in her daze, repeating his native words again.

His hand covered her own, causing her to look down briefly at both hands now feeling her subtle heartbeat. “I should tell him.” Malia expressed while Burter nodded. “I should tell him how I feel even if it means getting hurt. At least I said it.” She added sternly, feeling like a bit of weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “I’m going to tell him right now!” Burter acknowledged her words by stepping to one side. He extended his arm toward the door and she dusted her hands on his apron before adjusting her nervous posture. “I’ll just come right out and say it.”

She nodded to herself as Burter did the same, inkling some vote of confidence in her as she walked out of the kitchen. Two steps away from the entrance however, she turned around to approach the doorway, forgetting to thank him. “Miss.” Malia whipped her head around at the sound of a voice coming from behind her. Pallas, who appeared out of one of the hall doors, made her way toward her in a hurry. “Your dress is ready for the Event. Please, follow me.” Malia lifted up a finger to her, asking for a second and ran into the kitchen to hug Burter for all his silent help then followed the meekly maid. 

For the first time, she took each step forward with conviction, holding her head up high. She knew whatever happened after her confession would ultimately change things, for hopefully the better or...worse? She had mulled over almost all the possibilities to her decision in her head, no matter which befalling, she still stayed. Getting over it, eventually, if he rejected her. She just wanted to know. Hearing Pallas announce they had reached the room, Malia took in a deep breath, feeling her heart start to pound against her chest. It was now or never. 

“Peter?” She walked into the sun bathed room without bidding Pallas goodbye and found the bed where she left him asleep, empty, with only a covered garment placed across the mattress. “Why would Peter Quill make things easy for me?” She chuckled, shaking her head as she approached the side of the bed and picked up her dress. She smiled at the thought of wowing him with her appearance once she glammed up in Contraxia fashion before telling him how she felt. Like a scene straight out of a movie. “I’m going to walk out and be like: WAHBLAM!” She struck a pose with the bagged dress up in the air.

* * *

Peter looked at himself in the mirror, a look of uncertainty written on his face. "Are you sure about this?"

The towering stylist bent down beside him to look in the mirror as well. "It's the best I could do given... you."

Peter's eyes roamed over the royal looking coat that he'd been given. It's deep blue and gold trim giving off a distinctly princely vibe, especially with its immaculately clean appearance. The red sash across the front was a touch he could've done without. The black pants and shoes he'd been given echoed the same attention to excellence that the coat had. Peter tugged at the suffocating collar, earning a slap on the hand from the stylist. "This is what Kalara picked out?"

The being nodded before starting to gather up his supplies. "Demanded, yes."

Peter ran a hand over his newly smooth shaven face. Despite his protests, his stubble had been eradicated. His hair had also received some attention. The sides had been cut down, leaving just the top to have the thickness he preferred. That part had been tamed into a clean cut parted style. He went to put his Walkman headphones in before having the stylist yank them from his hands. "Are you stupid? You'll mess up your hair."

Peter pulled his headphones free and hung them on his neck. "Fine, geez. I'm not supposed to leave a tip, am I?"

The stylist started to say something, but Peter had already started towards the door. "Enjoy your event."

Peter rolled his eyes as he stepped out into the hall. "Yeah, I'll be sure to do that."

Peter looked down at his outfit, shaking his head as he started for his room. He'd be so glad when this whole thing was over and he was back out in space. Damn princesses making him do stuff. He wondered if Malia would be back by the time he got there. She'd no doubt want to know more about last night and the only answers he had were things he'd rather not tell her right now. Oh God, what would she think of him getting up? Peter groaned as he thought of the fun she'd have at his expense over his fancy clothes. A small part of him hoped she liked it though.

Peter reached the room, taking a deep breath before slowly opening the door. It was quiet, which didn't mean much since Malia could be pretty silent. He ventured further in, breathing a sigh of relief as he found the room empty. His relief was short lived though as a clattering noise came from the bathroom, closely followed by a couple choice curse words. Peter furrowed his brow before knocking on the door. "Uh, Mal. You alright?"

"Go Away!" Malia looked over herself in the wide mirror, trying to pin down one side of her hair and groaned out of the overwhelming anger she felt. Everything she pre-planned had fallen into shambles once she unzipped the bag to her dress and saw what laid underneath; a hideous fabric wrapped in ugly. Colored in a nude beige of some sort, her dress was made out of stiff plastic material, making it incredibly difficult to move around in. It’s shoulders were adorned with balls that matched the frizzled leggings. She looked like something a cat coughed up, needing only a slither of slime to finish it off.

Her hair was also disastrous, thanks to the strange contraption she used. And here she thought she would wow Peter on his arrival. “I’m not going anywhere.” Malia threw the brush across the bathroom, after its teeth got stuck against her electrified hair and let out another groan. She couldn’t go out in public dressed up as Contraxia vomit. She tried every trick in the book to make the awful assembly work to no avail with her fashion tricks. If anything, each attempt made things worse. “I look like a troll doll!” She cried, hearing Peter mumble she was overreacting from the other side of the locked door.

But, she wasn’t. Kalara had picked out this exact dress to humiliate her. “Look at this!” Abruptly pulling on the doorknob, Malia stepped out into the room once the door was swung open with her arms outstretched for him to see the unpleasant gown she was in, almost tripping over own feet as the leggings made it hard to walk properly forward in. “This dress is disgusting, my hair won’t go down and my makeup is running from all the crying I did!” She expressed in one rapid sentence before falling on the carpeted floor to wipe her wet face, smearing her mascara further then it had been. 

“I’m not needed for this whole thing, you are. So...,” Malia stopped amidst her sniffle and looked up at Peter through black stained eyes. “Just go on without me and get those routes, okay?” She let her eyes linger on his form for a brief minute, taking in his royal attire and fresh appearance unlike her own and smiled. “At least one of us cleaned up nicely,” She complimented as she slipped off her eccentric Lady Gaga heels and drifted her attention elsewhere. She was certain Peter could handle Kalara while she stayed in the room or better yet, the Milano till the event was over. Kalara could have her fatuous win.

Peter tried his best to hold back a laugh as Malia got to her feet, knowing full well that it wouldn't help her already distressed state. "Come on, people like troll dolls." Malia ignored his quip and made her way to the bed, setting herself down on its edge. Peter picked up the shoes she had left at his feet and made his way over to her. He took a deep breath as he prepared to lie through his teeth. "It's not that bad." Peter placed a hand on her hair, attempting to give it a reassuring stroke. But the second his hand got past a part, the hair would immediately spring back up into place. That was too much. Peter burst out laughing, earning him a swift punch to the gut from Malia. 

"You're an a**hole!"

Peter held up a hand as he tried to regain his composure. "Sorry, sorry. " He took a deep breath as he took a seat next to his partner. "I assume Kalara picked the dress?" Malia nodded, confirming Peter's assumption. "You know this is the reaction she probably wanted, right?" Malia nodded glumly as Peter shook his head. "It's just a dress. You didn't have this much of a problem when you were facing down that monster all by yourself."

Malia looked up at him. "Because all I had to do then was die, that's easy. This is... a fate worse than death."

Peter furrowed his brow, surprised by the fatalistic statement, but decided not to dwell on it. "I mean, it's no Stark Christmas party dress." He sat back as he thought back to her attire that evening. "That dress was something else." Peter glanced at Malia to see her staring at him and cleared his throat. "I wouldn't blame you for not coming, and no, you're not needed to get this done." Malia started to say something before Peter cut her off. "But you're needed by me." This got him a look of dumbfounded silence from Malia. "I really, really don't want to go in there by myself with her. Besides," Peter ventured to brush a stray tear from Malia's cheek. "you gotta come and make sure I don't do anything too stupid, right?"

"You'll still manage to do that with or without me," Malia couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips amidst the unprompted giggle that escaped them, being reminded of Peter's special way of cheering her up. She hated it, her body always having a mind of its own and betraying her when the situation called for her to be serious. "I know this is what Kalara wanted and I should've expected it, but—," She let out a deep sigh, unable to finish her sentence as she no longer cared to continue it any further. She had gotten so preoccupied in figuring out what to do over her feelings, Kalara sucker punched her when she least expected it.

"Now, how am I supposed to fix this!?" Standing from the edge of the bed, reluctantly, Malia waved a hand over her overall appearance with a groan and attempted to pin her bride of frankenstein hair down again. It deflated a bit, for only a minute, to spring up again, causing Peter to burst into laughter. She threw him a death threatening glare in response, then froze as she had an epiphany while looking at him. “Your sash!” She blurted in a manic manner. “I can use it for my hair or better yet,” She threw up her hands and crawled over the mattress toward their duffel bag. “I can use that ugly scarf of yours.” 

That was the solution to her hair debacle, a wrapped up turban style. She pulled out Peter’s maroon colored scarf, shuffled out of the bed, almost tripping her own legs and stood in front of the rectangular mirror in the room. Malia lifted one side of the scarf over her head, while holding one end of her untamed hair and drifted her eyes over to Peter. “Uh, a little help here?” She expressed in mild annoyance. If it weren’t for the years she put in growing her hair to the length it was, she would’ve shaved herself bald at this moment. “Okay, hold this end while I wrap this…,”

Peter helped her to the best of his abilities to control her wild hair as she weaved his scarf over her head and tied the turbon in a knot of sorts. “There.” Malia looked at the finished product, relatively content with what she pulled off and slipped back into the heels she discrated. ‘For Peter’s sake,’ She repeated to herself in a mantra, taking in a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with, before I do something drastic.” She looped her arm around Peter, feeling odd over the gesture, having not been in this stance since Stark’s Christmas Party. She let the thought linger as she walked in silence through the hall upon Pallas arrival. 

“Peter?” Malia slowed in her steps, to leave enough room for the maid not to overhear her as they followed her lead to the courtyard. “When we get to this Event. I mean, before Kalara steals you away,” Malia looked up at Peter, coming to a full stop. He was listening, attention locked onto her paled expression. “When we get to the event,” She repeated, her mouth going dry. _“There's something I have to tell you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *SQUEALS IN EXCITEMENT* These next for chapters are just fangirling material for me! I hope you guys had a good turkey day and stayed safe out there :) Heres a post-turkey day chapter I hope you enjoy.


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